A Rogue's Gamble
by Starzgirl
Summary: Post-Bloodhound. Rosto reacts to reports of Beka being seen with a gambling cove in Port Caynn. What happens when Beka returns to Corus and a sore Rogue? Hinted at Beka/Rosto. T for safety.CHAPTER TWELVE: TAKIN' A GAMBLE up! Bloodhound spoilers! COMPLETE!
1. Reports to an Angered Rogue

**Disclaimer (applies to all chapters): I do not own any characters, places, or objects created by Tamora Pierce. Oh, how I wish I did.**

**A/N: I'm back (it seems I couldn't stay away for long!), and this time I've written a Beka/Rosto fic for you all to enjoy. After reading ****Bloodhound**** (which was EXCELLENT by the way) I felt like we needed some Beka and Rosto interaction at the end. This is my take on what would happen post-****Bloodhound****. I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

**Chapter One: Reports to an Angered Rogue**

* * *

As the sun set over the harbor, the cool breeze from the sea swept through the darkened streets of Port Caynn. The town's squares and eating houses began to fill up with mots and coves alike, beginning the busy night traffic. Many couples walked about, some lovestruck, others bickering back and forth with the practice of many years together. The streets were a mixture of rushers and cityfolk, with the occasional appearance of street Dogs- that were either just plain lazy, or they'd been bribed proper. Mayhap both. A purse snatching happened near one pair of Dogs, but the scuts turned their attention instead to an old mot selling meat pasties.

But the filcher did not go unnoticed. Two very pale blue eyes, under a modest application of eye paint, watched the lad. The pretty mot was dressed in a simple dress of a citywoman, but her gait gave her away. Though she dressed ordinary, she had the telltale walk of a fighter. A Dog to be exact. The man with whom she walked with was not a Dog, nor did he fight for a living, but it was equally as obvious that he could protect himself well if a problem arose.

The cove leaned in to whisper in the Dog-mot's ear. She smiled up at him, taking her eyes off of the small filcher as the man whose purse he had stolen caught the young boy by the shoulder. He yelled for the Dogs. The young lad thrust a purse back at the man. He caught it, and in doing so, slackened his hold on the boy. The boy turned and ran. The man frowned at the purse and was about to yell again for the Dogs when he looked inside. He suddenly shut his gob and turned on his heel, moving in the opposite direction of the young filcher. The two Dogs, who had turned to look about lazily, returned to eating their pasties, never moving from where they leaned against one of the stalls.

The face of the Dog-mot dressed in city garb tightened as she watched again. Her shoulders were tense and her hands were fisted at her side. Then the cove she was with pulled her attention back to him as he told her something that made her shoulders relax. They were standing watching a puppet show when the mot had caught sight of the filching. The cove hadn't noticed that her attention had wandered.

The man was clearly a charmer, confident in his dealings with women, and it showed in the way he ran his fingers gently up and down her forearm, teasing her palm and fingers until all she could do was look at him and smile.

After that they walked about the city, the cove ending their stroll by leading them to a tidy-looking building in a decent enough district. It was where he kept his rooms. The cove, named Dale Rowan, took the young woman's hand as Beka, the Dog-mot, smiled and allowed him to lead her inside.

As the door to the building closed behind them, a dark figure moved in the alley across from the residence. The cove was dressed in plain clothes, with sharp green eyes that took in his surroundings as easily as if he checked the sky for time.

Where was Guardswoman Goodwin, leaving Cooper alone to gallivant about? What was she doing? It was as plain as the nose on a cove's face what Guardswoman Cooper was up to.

The watcher's lips settled into a frown. He had very bad feelings about this bit of development. If he thought it had been bad before, he knew it was about to get worse. _Much_ worse.

Mithros save him from the wrath of an angered Rogue!

* * *

_Back in Corus, the Dancing Dove, Home of the Court of the Rogue_

The Dancing Dove was busy. Rushers and people of the Lower City looking to speak to the Rogue filled the main room. Ale and food was being served up by tough mots that were skilled at outmaneuvering roaming, pinching hands, though they expected- and sometimes welcomed- some coves' pats of appreciation.

There were many groups of men playing cards and dice around the room, gambling with coppers mostly, though there was some silver too. Not many people in Corus, not even the rushers, had noticed aught about false silver being passed around as of yet. Then again, not even rushers gambled with silver often. It was the nobles, or the few others who could spare the silver, that used it so freely.

Farthest from the entrance, near the largest hearth, was a raised wooden platform with a simple yet sturdy chair on it. In it sat Corus' Rogue, Rosto the Piper. Like the chair, his clothes were simple, but well-made. A mot, a doxie by the look of her, was draped across one arm of his chair, her fingers toying with the fair hair by one of his ears. Rosto seemed not to notice her attentions as he finished off yet another cup of ale.

Seeing that his cup was finished, the doxie took it from his hand, getting up as she did so. Running her fingers teasingly down his long arm, she turned to go refill his cup. She added an extra sway to her hips apurpose, the bold, seductive smile on her lips a well-crafted tool of her trade in getting a cove to all but grovel at the hem of her skirts.

Rosto hardly noticed however, his thoughts elsewhere…And to where his thoughts led him, he hoped that the doxie would be bringing back stronger ale.

Though his mind was preoccupied, his eyes were still as sharp as his knives. He saw his messenger as soon as he appeared at the entrance to the common room. Rosto shifted and sat up straighter in his chair, his eyes catching the cove's, summoning him to where he sat.

Coming before him, the man bowed with respect.

Nodding back, Rosto asked him, "What do you have to report?"

The cove straightened, his keen green eyes meeting Rosto's own. Carefully the man began to tell him all of what had happened in Port Caynn since the last report two days afore. Another one of Rosto's watchers had come back to report to him before, then returned to Port Caynn. There were a handful of them that Rosto had sent. This cove felt curst unlucky to be the one to report this time. The other watcher had told him of their Rogue's reaction to the first report. The watchers had been sent to Port Caynn to report back on what Guardswomen Goodwin and Cooper did there, but they all knew they were really there to watch over Guardswoman Cooper. Though Rosto listened intently to the other findings of their time in the port city- information on Port Caynn's Rogue, Pearl Skinner, and the like- he was especially intent on hearing news about the first-year Dog, Rebakah Cooper…And he had not reacted calmly to the news of Guardswoman Cooper hanging on the arm of some gambler cove, Dale Rowan.

The man who reported to Rosto now was plain nervous. The first report had included only the first night Beka and Rowan had been seen together, at the Merman's Cave. That night they hadn't been locking lips in every alleyway back to Ladyshearth lodgings as they did the night after. They hadn't even kissed that first night. Now here the poor cove came to deliver his report- and Beka and the gambler had done a lot more than kissing since then.

Giving his Rogue as thorough a report as he could without revealing last night's events, the cove stopped talking and waited for questions. The doxie had returned during the report with Rosto's refilled cup of ale, and now he turned it slowly in one hand as he thought.

Finally he asked, "You said that Cooper was out with Master Rowan last night alone." He said _Master Rowan_ like he had a bad taste in his mouth, though the change to his voice was subtle. "There was no sign of Guardswoman Goodwin?"

The cove had to tell him of Goodwin's absence, but he did not go so far as to tell the Rogue what else had transpired the night before. He had only told him that the two had walked around the city together, with little to report that could be useful to what the guardswomen were seeking in Port Caynn. Understandably, Rosto was curious as to where Goodwin was, just as the watcher had been.

Unfortunately the watcher did not have an answer. "I'm not certain, Your Majesty," the cove replied honestly.

Rosto continued to turn his cup in his hand, watching it absentmindedly.

After a moment of silence, the man added, "When I returned to Ladyshearth lodgin's this mornin', Your Majesty, Guardswoman Goodwin was not there, nor was she there the morning afore."

Of a sudden, Rosto's hand stopped twirling the cup. His eyes fixed again on his watcher. A frown formed on his lips. "Returned to Ladyshearth lodgings? Where had you gone?"

Instantly, the cove realized his mistake, but he dared not lie now. Taking a deep breath, he replied, "I was watchin' Guardswoman Cooper, as instructed."

Rosto's brow creased as he studied the man in front of him.

As if waiting for explanation, the cove went on, saying quietly, "Guardswoman Cooper did not return to her lodgin's last night. She spent her night elsewhere…At Master Dale Rowan's, in fact." Even more quietly, he added, "That's where I left her this mornin' to report back here."

After an eternity of silence from the Rogue passed, the cove chanced a look up at Rosto's face. It looked as hard as stone. His black eyes stared ahead, unseeing, as those that had been listening hurriedly went about their own business, talking nonsense and trying not to catch the Rogue's attention. The watcher waited with bated breath, his palms breaking out into a cold sweat as Rosto's jaw clenched and unclenched. His knuckles turned white, he was holding his cup so tightly. Even the doxie had left off her teasings to go to the privy. No one would dare mention that she had just returned from there.

The poor cove wished he could use the same excuse to wander off, but instead he had to wait to be dismissed.

Finally, Rosto pushed himself out of his chair, sending his full cup of ale to the floor as he did. Then he flipped a coin to the watcher and told him to return to Port Caynn. After that a few quick, powerful strides took Rosto to the staircase that led up to his rooms. Reaching his door, he opened it and slammed it shut behind him, not caring if those below could- and would- hear…

* * *

**A/N: Well, there it is, the first chapter of a new story! Tell me what you thought! This is my first shot at a Beka/Rosto (Well, truthfully my first shot at a story not Kel/Dom lol) :D I hope you liked it!**


	2. Throwing Knives

**A/N: CAUTION!- This fic contains ****Bloodhound**** spoilers. So if you have not read it and do not wish to know what happens until you read the book, I highly advise you not to read this fic until you've finished. Just wanted to give you a head's up!**

**For those of you who have read it, or don't care about spoilers, the story continues… :D**

* * *

**Chapter Two: Throwing Knives**

* * *

After slamming the door behind him, Rosto threw himself down on his bed. He was curst sore and angry just thinking about it. She had only known the spintry, what? Three days?! And already she was sharing the sarden tarse's bed?

Rosto slammed his fist down. Was the girl crackbrained? From the reports and what he's found out elsewhere, _Dale Rowan_ had a reputation amongst mots that stretched as long as the Olorun River itself. From what he'd heard, he was never with a mot for more than a week…and never without one for more than a few days. The craven scut probably bedded them and their sisters before the first mot even found out, and when she did, he was already off in another city, wooing the women there with his fribbety words and hollow promises.

For a moment, Rosto was reminded of his own behavior since the first messenger had arrived from Port Caynn, when the messenger had told Rosto how that _spintry_ had pulled Beka into his lap as he played at his gambler's game, then danced with her in a city square later. Just the thought of him handling Beka like the doxies Rowan was no doubt used to taking around was enough to make Rosto angry. She was her own mot, not some _bank courier's_ toy.

Rosto thought of the doxies he had entertained in the past two days. Unlike Master Cocksure, he did not make any promises or murmur sweet, false words into the women's ears. Nor did they expect it, or in truth, want it. In truth, they just wanted their coin, like any working mot or cove that needed to survive in the city. It was a harsh reality, and not at all respectable, but many either had little ones to support or were greedy for more coin in a quicker fashion.

At least _he_, however, did not chase after honest, innocent mots and charm them into his bed with his flowery words and leave them as soon as the rooster crowed! No, _Dale Rowan_ was the kind of cove that mother's always warned their innocent young gixie's about, the ones with the sweet tongues that oozed honey as easily as slavers could sell children. Rowan was the kind of scummer that suddenly disappears with the morning tide after you have shared his bed once or twice.

Before, Rosto had been plenty angry, but there had been a part of him that took into consideration that Beka was indeed on a hunt. She would have to step out of her boundaries to get the information she needed, and perhaps she had found a link through Rowan. Through reports, he'd heard that Dale Rowan sometimes gambled with Peal Skinner herself, so he was doubtless welcome in her Court. Mayhap that was Beka's angle?

But _now_…surely she would not have to go so far as to share the sarden cove's bed! Beka was one of the cleverest mots he knew, surely there would be another way!

Unless she actually _liked_ the tosspot…

Instantly, Rosto was back on his feet, pacing the room. A gambler! And probably a cheatin' one at that! Gamblers were no more honest than the worst rushers! They lied straight to your face- the best could look in your eyes with nary a feeling!- just to win your hard-earned coin. Would Beka soon find out that it was the same with people? Dale Rowan could probably steal a mot's heart as easily as cheat someone at a game of cards. Then he'd move on. At least rushers lied to save their lives!

Rosto was so sore now, that not even a mot's company could take his mind away from what was happening in Port Caynn anymore.

The thought made his blood boil- and it was _not_ in Dale Rowan's favor. Rosto unsheathed his many knives from his body and grabbed them by the hilt, flicking his wrist to make the blades flip through the air, embedding them deeply in the wooden wall of his room. There was a special section on his wall he kept for specifically that purpose, to practice throwing his knives, but there were now many more cuts in the wood where there had been very few before…

* * *

_Wednesday September 19__th__, the day after the messenger from Port Caynn_

"Kora, give me a piece of your hair," said Aniki, holding her hand out.

"What for, you're no mage," Kora replied. She was feeding Fuzzball a fish pasty in the common room of the Dancing Dove. It was early in the afternoon, and the room was only starting to fill with people.

Aniki rolled her eyes lazily. "I just want to make sure my sword is sharp enough," she replied, taking a stone to the blade.

"That's the thirtieth time you've sharpened that today. By now it's either sharp enough to cut granite, or it's going to snap like a reed in the wind," said Kora. Then her eyes sparkled and the corner of her mouth hiked up in a grin. "Surely it was sharp enough for you to kill the unlucky cove or mot you took it from."

Laughing wickedly, Aniki grinned, "I told you I bought it yesterday, Kora, with my own coin. It has yet to be tainted by blood."

Ersken, who sat beside Kora, shook his head at Aniki. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

"What?" asked Aniki innocently. "I said _yet_."

"How 'bout we keep it that way?" suggested Ersken feebly.

Aniki only laughed. "It's not me you should worry about," she told him as she used her finger to test the blade. The slightest touch and it brought blood; she grinned with satisfaction. "Our dear Rogue seems about to bite someone's head off…mayhap a couple."

When Ersken asked them more about it, Kora and Aniki filled him in on what he had missed the night before. When they were finished, Ersken did naught but raise his eyebrows for a time. Then he leaned toward them and whispered, "_Beka stayed the night with that cove?_" His voice betrayed his astonishment.

"It seems so," replied Aniki.

Kora nodded. "And you've seen how Rosto's been these past days, goin' from mot to mot. It's even _worse_ now, as you can probably imagine. He's not even shown himself this mornin'. And there were no mots in his room last night. They were all grumblin' because of it down here." She spoke of the doxies that frequented the Court. The Rogue and those closest to them usually had the most money available, so the highest priced doxies always stuck around. According to Kora, it wasn't long before they left for the bordels that were popular with the nobles. It was the cheap trulls that walked the mucky city streets. No one seemed to linger last night at the Dancing Dove, given Rosto's temper.

"I swear he was throwin' those sarden knives at his wall all night long," added Aniki. "The steady thump of them in the wood was what finally put me to sleep. They no doubt need sharpening."

As if their talk summoned him, soon they heard the heavy sound of Rosto's boots coming down the stairs. Aniki turned to Kora and Ersken. "If I was you, I'd buy that house soon. It's not going to be any bed of roses living here," she told them, seeing Rosto's face.

His face was tight, his eyes hard, and it looked like he had gotten little rest. He grabbed a tankard of the strongest ale available and stomped over to his chair, dropping into it with a thud. He said nothing as he tipped his head back and drank. No one approached the dais, nor did Rosto acknowledge anyone. He just drank his ale in brooding silence.

It wasn't until after his third refill that a cove called out, "Would y' like t' join us, Majesty?" The cove was sitting with a group of folk all playing some gambling game. Apparently he did not hear about the Rogue's foul mood, nor did he seem to take notice. The looby.

Getting up out of his chair, Rosto crossed the room to the table where they played. Each player had a hand of cards, some with numbers and other with faces on them. Not recognizing the game, Rosto asked what they were playing.

"It's called Gambler's Chance," replied the cove who had called him over. "It's the biggest game out of Port Caynn."

Paying more attention to the cards in his hand than Rosto, the cove did not see the muscles of Rosto's jaw draw taut. His already flinty black eyes grew even harder.

Then Rosto spoke, his voice mirroring the look in his eye. "Pack it up and move your game elsewhere. There will be no playin' it in my Court."

He started to turn when the cove protested, "But Your Majesty-" He stopped when Rosto gave him an ice cold glare that could rival Beka's. The man immediately shut his gob. His friends were already packing up their game.

Seeing that he would get no more objections, Rosto turned and stormed away. Instead of returning to the dais, he marched back up the stairs to his quarters.

A few of the cove's gambling friends scuffed the man on the back of the head as they left the Dancing Dove.

Ersken, Kora, and Aniki exchanged looks from where they had witnessed the whole scene. A moment later, they heard the familiar dull thud of something hitting a wall.

"Sounds like he's throwing his knives again," remarked Ersken.

Aniki listened for a moment. Then she replied, "And they still need to be sharpened."

"At least he hasn't gotten out of practice," said Kora. Fuzzball swatted at her hand for more food. She grabbed another fish pasty from in front of Ersken, who protested.

"I pity the looby who crosses his path," said Aniki. "Dale Rowan had better watch his hide and stay out of Corus. Otherwise he'll be receiving a very unfriendly visit from our Rogue, and then he'll find out that knives speak louder than coin."

"But perhaps he's not a bad sort," suggested Ersken. "Mayhap we'd even like him."

Both Aniki and Kora looked at him. Ersken shrugged, "It could be."

"Mayhap," replied Aniki, "but Dale Rowan could be Mithros himself and Rosto wouldn't care. He'd still have just as good a chance of ending up with a cut throat. Of course," said Aniki with a wink at Ersken, "there's no need to worry. Rosto would never do such a thing."

Ersken gave her a skeptical look and then looked at Kora. "So _where_ did you think we should buy a house?"

* * *

**A/N: Rosto really paints Dale as an ugly picture, eh? Jealousy is a big, ugly monster alright. :D Hope you enjoyed it, I'll have the next chapter up soon!**


	3. News from Port Caynn

**A/N: Okay so here's chapter three. I'll try to have chapter four up soon so Beka can show up in the story sooner :D Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Three: News from Port Caynn**

* * *

The next few days brought better news for the Rogue…and his people who could finally breathe easily again. Aniki had warned Rosto repeatedly that his foul mood over the news from Port Caynn had left him vulnerable to challenges, but no one dared. Word seemed to spread of his all night knife throwing practices.

But on the day of September twentieth, Rosto seemed in better spirits…although he still had many tankards of strong ale and the muscles in his jaw refused to relax. But this time it was less from anger than it was of worry. The Lord Provost, mages, knights, and many of Corus' finest Dogs- including Ersken- had dispatched for Port Caynn very early that morning. Rosto had found out soon enough when he had happened across Ersken emerging from Kora's rooms in the early morning, dressed in his Dog uniform with Kora fussing over him. Rosto had yet to get a decent night's sleep, and had immediately gotten out of bed to upbraid whoever it was that made such noise in the hall so early. But when he had seen Ersken decked out in his Dog garb, his anger had ebbed. Then when he was told where Ersken was off to, his anger had vanished completely…to soon be replaced by worry. Was Beka alright? Goodwin had reported back to Corus, to the Lord Provost, leaving Beka in Port Caynn alone.

Alone.

Rosto cursed as he had laid thinking back in his bed. Who knew what crazy, cracknobbed things Beka would get into when left by herself? If he would've known, he could have sent some of his trusted rushers to watch her. She would have been fair angry at him if she found out, but his men were skilled at keeping out of sight, being as how that determined if they stayed alive or not. Besides, he wouldn't give a rat's bum if it made her angry. Knowing Beka, Rosto knew that she was as curious as a cat and as anxious as a hound with a good scent, and if the Lord Provost was planning a raid on Port Caynn, Rosto knew the scent was _very_ good. Goodwin and the others were cracked if they thought Beka would patiently wait for her return! No, if he knew Beka at all, he knew her nose was stuck deep into the muck of Port Caynn's streets, never ceasing until she found what she wanted. Not only was she one of the cleverest mots he knew, but she was definitely the most curst determined. Her stubbornness was only one of things he admired about her, but at the same time cursed. Once she got some notion in that head of hers, it stuck. He'd been hard put in trying to change her mind about having a rusher for a man, that not all rushers are scummer like the ones her ma had, but she has yet to sway from that silly notion.

Apparently gamblers, however, are a different story, he thought bitterly.

This time he cursed aloud as he sat up, running his hand back through his hair. He tried to stop his traitorous mind from returning again to Beka and Dale Rowan. If thoughts could kill, Dale Rowan would be dead a hundred times over…no, mayhap a thousand.

Knowing that sleep was no longer an option, Rosto got up to throw a tunic on over his breeches. He was throwing water on his face, trying to erase the image in his mind of pummeling Rowan to a pulp- which was mighty difficult since he knew naught what the cove looked like- when a knock sounded at his door.

One of the watchers he'd sent to Port Caynn had arrived with his report. Finishing quickly, Rosto went downstairs to hear the man's news.

* * *

Mithros save him, the Trickster must take delight in toying with him! Of all the crackbrained, hare-brained, _idiotic_ things to do…

Port Caynn's Dogs _and_ Pearl Skinner?! He knew she was slightly cracked- enjoying the work of a Dog that constantly ran afoul of rushers and Rats and all- but this was ridiculous! She had all of the most dangerous folk in Port Caynn on her tail! What was she thinking? Hearing the news, Rosto had felt like catching the next boat to Port Caynn, fearing that the Lord Provost and the others would not get there in time. He knew that notion was folly, but he thought it nonetheless. In a way he was glad he had not found out sooner, otherwise he didn't know what crackbrained thing he might've done. At least he knew Goodwin and many others were on their way. He would just have to wait for word now.

Goddess's tears, the waiting would be enough to drive him mad! Pearl Skinner was a hard, vicious mot that would not go down easily…and he knew Beka would be right in the forefront of that mess, after having already stuck her nose where it was not wanted…and Pearl Skinner would no doubt want to deliver that reminder herself.

Rosto downed another cup of ale. He looked at his empty cup and frowned slightly. Either he was getting immune to the stuff, or someone had watered down the ale, because it was doing little to ease his mind. Putting down the cup, he began his audience earlier than usual with those wanting to voice their problems or requests in the Rogue's ear. Something had to get his mind off of what might be happening in Port Caynn.

He also knew he'd yet to get a good night's rest until he heard aught…

* * *

Waking from a fitful sleep, Rosto heard noise in the hallway outside his rooms. Checking outside, he saw that the sky was still dark, in the very early stages of lightening before dawn. Keeping his eyes trained on the door, Rosto felt for the knives thrust underneath his pillows. The sounds were surely too loud for someone with ill-intent, but assuming the better could result in getting killed. Without a sound, Rosto slipped out of his bed and padded quietly to the door. Standing beside it, he listened. Recognizing the two voices, Rosto frowned and opened the door. Aniki and Kora stood in the hallway, talking. They turned when his door opened.

"What's going on?" he asked, stepping into the corridor. He still had his knives in hand.

Aniki spoke first. "They've nabbed her. Pearl Skinner. Took her in last night."

"How'd you hear?" he asked, none too surprised. He had heard from folk late last night of the Dogs' raid on her Court. The last anyone in Corus had heard was that they had yet to catch Pearl. The distance between the two cities delayed the news, but word of a Rogue being brought down traveled faster than most. Rosto could hear some folk down in the common room, whereas it was usually deserted, being before dawn and all. This was big news.

"I spent the night down by the river docks. Word started to float in naught but a half hour ago. I stayed and listened until it was confirmed. Coming back here, I ran across some of the watchers you've had posted at the gates and docks coming to report. They're down in the common room now," Aniki told him. "I told them I'd come wake you."

After grabbing a tunic and putting it on, Rosto headed downstairs. Aniki and Kora were right on his heels.

A handful of coves and a few mots being served drink by two yawning serving wenches sat in the common room. Their talk was eager but they kept their voices low. When they caught sight of Rosto, they stopped and came to attention.

"So what is the news you have come to bring me?" he asked coolly, not bothering to sit in his chair.

"They've hobbled Pearl Skinner, Majesty," said one of the mots, Barzunni by her accent. "Heard it down by the docks, I did."

"From what I heard, she's in bad shape, that 'un," added a big cove. "Caught her down in the sewers, they did. Heard that she was so weak, they had t' drag her t' Guards House. Quite the Bloodhound we got workin' for our Dogs."

Rosto's brow creased. "Bloodhound? What hound do you speak of?" Aniki and Kora listened just as intently.

"T'ain't no real dog," the man chortled, "though a scent hound was used in the pursuit. No, that's what they're callin' Guardswoman Cooper out in Port Caynn. Apparently they didn't know she already had a nickname here." He chuckled again.

"Cooper caught Pearl?" Rosto asked, making sure he had everything straight.

The cove nodded. "Her and her partner. They're both laid up along wi' Pearl in Guards House. Didn't escape unscathed either, those two. But from all we've heard, they're still alive." He indicated the others who had come to report. They all nodded. Apparently they had heard that same bit of information.

Rosto had the others report to him, though he learned little more than the cove had already told him. It was still too soon to hear of the details.

As the sun started to rise, more and more of his people started coming in to report. Rosto was relieved to hear them all confirm the cove's report that Beka was alive, though definitely battered. By eight of the clock that morning, Corus and the Dancing Dove were buzzing with talk of news from Port Caynn, carried in by land and sea. That day, Rosto never left his dais, word after word coming to him from rushers and cityfolk alike. From his best sources, he learned that Goodwin and Beka were indeed laid up in Guards House, being worked on by mages. They were thoroughly bruised and exhausted. One cove had even found out that Beka had gotten a mean knife wound to the hip. Rosto cursed Pearl doubly for that one.

But Mithros, thank him, she was still alive!

* * *

**A/N: Aw, we have a worried Rogue on our hands ;D I'll have the next chapter up soon!**


	4. Gillyflowers & Baubles

**A/N: Okay, this chapter takes place a few days after the last, and Beka is returning to Corus, finally :D**

* * *

**Chapter Four: Gillyflowers and Baubles**

* * *

Bloodhound.

The name had spread from Port Caynn to Corus as quickly as news of Pearl's capture had. Rosto could almost grin, thinking of how Beka would react to the nickname. She so hated attention- even if it was due to her. She'd rather break up a tavern fight than get thanked for a job well done. He could just imagine the poor scut who'd dare call her Bloodhound would be sure to feel the kiss from Beka's baton…or her fist, which was just as hard.

Rosto grinned. He should know. He'd once had one of those fists fly at him a few months ago, when he had caught Beka off-guard and stolen yet another kiss from her. The scene had been deftly played out as smoothly as if he had planned it, and for a mot that refused him so adamantly, she never seemed to fight his kisses. It was afterwards that he had learned to be quick on his feet. That time she had swung her fist out at him, narrowly missing his shoulder, but with the force and speed with which it went by him, Rosto knew it would have hurt. He would never admit to her that he liked evading her blows, because then she'd stop and probably content herself with glaring at him. Of course…he kind of liked that too.

He whistled a happy jaunt as he crossed the street to Mistress Trout's lodgings. Today, Beka was coming home to Corus and it put him a good mood. He bowed his head as he passed Mistress Trout sweeping the walkway.

"More gillyflowers, lad?" she asked, seeing the pitchers Rosto carried with the red flowers in them.

"What's a Rogue to do with flowers, Mistress?" Rosto teased. "They can't feed or clothe the people in the Lower City, and nor do these even have thorns."

Mistress Trout gave a _tut-tut_ of her tongue and went back to sweeping as Rosto headed up the stairs.

He had just pulled his lock picks from his breeches pockets when suddenly he halted. Then he looked down at the gillyflowers. He had bought dozens more that morning that were still waiting to be carried from his rooms to Beka's. Suddenly he put his lock picks back in his pocket and picked up the pitchers. Heading back down the stairs, he stopped and gave them to Mistress Trout.

"What's this?" she asked, puzzled.

"As I told you afore, Mistress, what's a Rogue to do with flowers?" With another bow of his head, he strode back across the street to the Dancing Dove.

Mistress Trout looked after him, frowning, the pitchers still in her hands. What had made his mood turn so sour so quickly?

* * *

Upon returning to his rooms, Rosto gathered up all the gillyflowers he had bought and tossed them out his window to the alleyway below. Small lads and gixies dove at the red flowers, grabbing them up almost instantly. At least they would appreciate them.

What had he been thinking? He'd been in such a good mood that he'd forgotten for a moment why he'd been so mad a few days back. Beka had a man…and it wasn't him. Would Dale Rowan come back with Beka to Corus? He would be curst sorry if he did. But even if he didn't, Rosto felt put in a funny position. Would Beka think it inappropriate of him to leave gillyflowers in her room? Now that she had a man, was _Dale Rowan_ the only one allowed to give her things? Why did he care? He usually wouldn't think twice about it. Then again, call it a hunch, but Rosto doubted that Beka tried to inflict bodily harm on Rowan when _he_ kissed her. The sarden spintry.

It was over this that Rosto had decided not to leave the gillyflowers. Besides, he _was_ still vexed with her. It served her right. He had been so relieved that she was alive and coming home that all other thought had vanished. But giving a mot gillyflowers certainly didn't send the message that he was still sore, he reminded himself. Which he was. He had kept his distance from her, giving her the space she wanted, waiting for the day when she'd finally realize he was not the pot of animal scummer she thought all rushers were. He hadn't overwhelmed her with flattery or attention, but instead had respected her feelings. He thought by now she'd see that his intentions were true. Surely if she thought he'd only wanted to bed her, he would have given up chase by now. Didn't she realize that?

And after all his futile effort to check his steps around her, what happens? She runs off to Port Caynn, where that bank spintry Dale Rowan charms her into his bed in less than a week!

Rosto felt it was going to be rather difficult not to betray his feelings when he sees her that night at supper. And if Dale Rowan _is_ there…Mithros save him, Rosto had better rid himself of all his weapons, and those of his guests. In fact, if Rowan does show up, Rosto had better tell the cook to not set knives out for supper. The sharp glint of the blade may be too tempting…

* * *

The gathering for supper that night was of a modest size. Dogs, cityfolk friends, and those on the other side of the law dined in comfort and good spirits. The crowd was of a large enough size that Beka did not feel she had to be the center of attention at any time after she walked in the room and received her welcoming home. It was also large enough so that it made it easy for one to avoid speaking to another without seeming rude.

Which was exactly what Beka and Rosto seemed to be doing, whether unconsciously or not.

Besides welcoming her home, Rosto had yet to speak to her. He tried his best to converse with those around him, feigning complete calm, and it seemed to work well. But all too often his gaze kept returning to Beka- and, more sickeningly, the shiny baubles draped around her neck and wrist. She hadn't had those when she had left. They were no doubt a gift from that gambler of hers. From a cove who loved coin, it wasn't hard to imagine why shiny, costly jewels would catch his eye. Seeing the opals she wore, Rosto was once again grateful that he had not left the gillyflowers in her room. They seemed so…ordinary, comparatively.

Toying with one of his daggers as he watched her, Rosto was grateful that _he_, Rowan, had not come…grateful _and_ slightly disappointed at the same time.

* * *

Despite being sore and tired, Beka had a nice time at supper. For the first time in days she didn't have to play a part or watch what she said. She could be herself again, no more wondering where she stood with people. She knew exactly where she stood with everyone here.

Well, with all but mayhap one.

But despite Rosto's staring, she still managed to have a good time. She wouldn't let him ruin her night- even though the hard, scrutinizing look on his face _was_ rather unnerving.

She tried to push him out of her mind, though it was difficult. It wasn't _that_ large of a gathering after all. More than a few times her eyes returned to the leanly muscled Rogue, his relaxed body at odds with the look on his face. Almost every time her blue eyes caught his black ones, whether he was looking at her face or, more often, the necklace and bracelet given to her by Dale that she wore. If it was at all possible, she thought the jewelry would burst into flame, he stared so.

It wasn't like she was or ever had been his mot. It wasn't like she had worn them a purpose just to vex him.

But as the night wore on, she started to wish more and more that she hadn't worn them. She knew she had every right to of course, but she would've done anything to stop his staring at her like he was trying to solve a puzzle. She hated being watched. Even more so by Rosto, with his probing black eyes that always looked capable of revealing your deepest secrets. Most of the time Beka had no qualm in looking right back at him, but tonight was different. She looked away quickly every time.

Rosto noticed of course. He finally decided that mayhap he should try and talk to her…

Beka had her body angled just so that she didn't see Rosto move from his place across the room. She was talking with Goodwin and Nyler Jewel when he appeared beside her, as quiet as a cat.

"I don't believe I've congratulated you on becoming desk sergeant, Guardswoman Goodwin. Corus's Rats will know naught what to do with themselves once you're gone off the streets," Rosto told her. "They might begin to miss you and get hobbled apurpose just to say hello."

Goodwin gave that small smile of hers that usually meant trouble to the one that caused it. "Then I'll send them back to you with a quick blow to the head to remind them of why they liked me so."

Rosto grinned. "Mayhap they'll come back for another. No one makes them dance the way you do, Guardswoman. They'll be curst lonely without you around to bang their heads in."

Goodwin actually laughed. "Let them know the feeling's mutual." Then she sighed as she looked across the room. "If you'll excuse me, it looks as if my Tom's about to hire those same Rats for his business. Now _there's_ a man I wish to club on the head…" Rosto bowed as she and Jewel walked off.

When he straightened, he leaned against the wall opposite Beka and turned those black eyes on her for the first time since he had approached.

She was growing uncomfortable, when finally he said, "So. How was Port Caynn?"

Ersken, Kora, and Aniki, seeing Rosto and Beka alone on the other side of the room, exchanged glances. Then Aniki said half-jokingly, "He'd better not ruin this dinner. There are still some spice cakes on the table over there that I plan on eating later."

* * *

**A/N: She's back! :D And I'll update again soon! **


	5. Gambling and the Rogue

**A/N: Here's chapter five! Not as quick as an update as the last chapter, but still not too long :D. And now for the first conversation between Beka and Rosto…drumroll please!**

* * *

**Chapter Five: Gambling and the Rogue**

* * *

…_When he straightened, he leaned against the wall opposite Beka and turned those black eyes on her for the first time. She was growing uncomfortable, when finally he said, "So. How was Port Caynn?"_

* * *

How was Port Caynn?

What was he getting at? Rosto more than likely knew more of what had happened while she had been away than she did. Everyone knew about Pearl being taken in by the Dogs, and even though she had been there, it all seemed like a big, exhausting blur through sewer after sewer. Beka had no doubt that everyone, especially Rosto, knew more of the details than she did.

As for the thing with Dale, if what Ersken had told her was true- and there was no reason for him to lie- than Rosto knew about their relationship. To what extent she did not know, but he was plenty sore about it. He couldn't fool her with that casual question and relaxed stance. The tight-eyed look he regarded her with said it all.

Mirroring the tone of his seemingly nonchalant question, Beka replied simply, "It's not much different than Corus- if you take away the corruption, nasty sewers, and bawdy sailors of course."

"I warned you about them."

"And I heeded that warning soon enough." She chuckled slightly, indeed remembering the friendly sailors.

Rosto's grin was razor-sharp and devoid of any humor. "Then mayhap I should have also warned you about gamblers as well." It was little more than a murmur, but Beka heard it clearly. He watched her steadily.

Beka was the first to look away, blushing. "Yes, well," she said, looking anywhere but at him, "Port Caynn seemed to be a big gaming town. To warn me off gamblers would have allowed me little or no contact with any person in the city at all."

"Just as well," he said in that same quiet voice. His eyes were unwavering.

"I was part of a hunt, Rosto," she told him sternly, meeting his eyes again. "I wouldn't have been doing my job if I holed myself up in my lodgings, you know that."

"Yes," he said, looking out at the others gathered in the rooms, his eyes veiled in thought. Then he glanced back at her, his eyes intent, "So the coals were being passed through the gambling dens?"

She nodded. "Mostly, yes. Especially at the start. By the time Goodwin and I arrived in Port Caynn, however, most gamblers were already checking their silvers."

Rosto was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "And you saw this firsthand."

He didn't state it as a question. Beka matched his steady gaze. "Yes," she told him. "Goodwin and I saw many games played while in the city. She even joined in a few."

"And you didn't?"

"No, but I saw plenty being played. Most coves in the city favor the gambling dens."

"Indeed," said Rosto. "No doubt they favor the company of pretty mots as well."

Though he said it casually, Beka could see the hard look in his eyes. She wanted to tell him it was none of his business, but she kept her mouth shut. She knew he was not speaking in general terms, and she'd be a looby to fall into the trap his comment set. Instead, she remained silent, meeting his gaze steadily.

It was after a long silence in which they looked at each other until Rosto finally looked away, pushing himself off the wall he had been leaning against. She wasn't going to talk about it, and her eyes told him he'd better not try. Rosto held his tongue, fighting the urge to tell her what a looby she was getting herself involved with. "If you'll excuse me," he said instead, "it looks like some Dogs are setting up a card game on the other side of the room. If it's the game I think it is, I wish to learn it." He glanced back at Beka. "It's the biggest game out of Port Caynn, I hear. Mayhap you've heard of it. Gambler's Chance?"

When she didn't speak, he continued, "Perhaps you can teach me sometime. I'm sure you picked it up, hanging around the crowd you did while in Port Caynn and all. Mayhap you could even bring me luck."

He turned to walk away, but stopped. Then, leaning in, he told her softly, "By the way, nice baubles."

Then he walked off.

* * *

Beka stared after him. It was obvious he knew more about her and Dale than she had thought, and it stung him to the core. She could tell easily by his tight comments and the even tighter look in his dark eyes.

And what was he up to, mentioning he wanted to learn Gambler's Chance? She knew he was no more interested in learning the game than she was. Was it another way of letting her know that he knew about her and Dale? That much was obvious without words.

In training, it had been pounded into Beka's head that it was important to size up one's adversary, to know their tactics and study them before making a move. Was this Rosto's way of saying he would not give her up to Dale Rowan?

Beka almost laughed aloud. That was the craziest, silliest thing she had ever thought in her life, and here she thought only being in skirts made her think such silly things! She shook her head at such nonsense.

But still, she couldn't help but watch curiously as Rosto went and found a seat among the men playing Gambler's Chance. For all he was a rusher, and the king of them at that, Rosto rarely gambled. His whole life was based on gambling, but with lives, not coin. Why start now? She'd once heard him remark that it was foolish to waste good coin on mere games. At the time, Beka had said that the same could be said for his life, but Rosto had only grinned. Then he had said, "I don't mind gamblin' with that, as long as it gets me what I want." The words had no sooner left his mouth before he had pressed his lips to hers. Gambling, indeed. He gambled his life every time he stole a kiss from her, and one of these times- one of these times!- Beka swore to herself that he'd get what he had coming to him, taking advantage as he did!

If only his lips weren't so soft, or his kisses so sweet…

Pox and murrain! What was the matter with her? Only days ago she was curled up in Dale Rowan's arms, and here she was thinking about Rosto's kisses. Again, she didn't even have the excuse of wearing skirts to explain such silly thoughts!

"You don't last long being the Rogue with only good looks and fast blades. If that were so, you'd soon end up with a dead blade-wielding pretty boy decorating the street gutter."

Beka turned to see Kora, Ersken, and Aniki beside her. "What?" she asked Kora, who had spoken.

"We thought for sure that you'd be bagging your second Rogue tonight," she explained with a smile. "He's been wound up as tight as a coil these last few days."

"Well what does he expect me to do? Stop living?" Beka replied with frustration, more annoyed by her previous thoughts of Rosto's soft kisses.

"No, just stop having relationships with strange coves," Aniki answered with a grin.

"And has he not been doin' the same thing with mots and doxies?" demanded Beka, slipping slightly into her Lower City talk.

Aniki shrugged. "That's only happened since he got news of your…friend. Before that, he's stayed rather…chaste. For a Rogue, that is."

Beka studied Aniki for a moment, calming down. She knew for certain that Rosto and Kora had stopped being bedmates ever since she had gotten with Ersken, but with Aniki she was not certain…

She must have seen the question in Beka's eyes, because Aniki laughed and said, "Don't worry, Beka. I have a new cove now that won't stomp around and snap like a turtle if I seek out another. I have a feeling our relationship will work out well." She gave a wicked smile.

Ersken looked at Beka. "Give him time. His feathers are just a bit ruffled, that's all."

"If that's what you consider as angry as a mob in the hot summer sun, then you're right," said Kora, her voice laced with sarcasm.

"I was just trying to help," he told his sweetheart quietly. To Beka he said, "But ever since he heard of your return, he's not sought out a mot's company, I'm told. I told you he'd be happy when he heard you were alive."

Beka sighed with frustration. "As far as I'm concerned, he can have all the doxies in Corus _and _Port Caynn if he wants! It's not my fault that he can't get it through his thick skull that I'll not be another one of his mots to warm his bed."

They watched as she trudged off. Then Kora looked at the other two. "Is that really what she thinks he only wants? I've never seen Rosto chase a mot that doesn't take to him right away."

"Then he really does care for her. At least, it looks that way to me. You two know him better than I do," said Ersken with a shrug.

Kora nodded. "And I've never seen him act this way over a mot, so of course he was as mad as a bull when Beka went with that gambling cove. For over a year Rosto's been biding his time, waiting for Beka to change her mind. Then she runs into that Dale Rowan's arms instead. Surely we can understand his frustration." She sighed. "I just wish Beka would stop fighting. I'd bet all my magic that she cares more for Rosto than she lets on. Her pigheadedness just doesn't allow her to see it."

"How are you so sure?" Ersken asked her skeptically.

She smiled, "Call it my woman's intuition."

"Either that or she's trying to read crystal balls again," remarked Aniki with a grin.

Kora gave her a look. "Don't be a looby. Only crackbrains see things in crystal balls." By the accusing tone in her voice, Ersken wondered if she had tried before with no success.

"True, you'd thought that I would end up marrying that sarden scut back in Scanra when you tried crystal ball reading. Oh, how wrong that was," Aniki grinned, showing all her teeth. "Little did that crystal ball know that his future was looking _awfully_ short." She laughed. "I trusted my woman's intuition on that one, the lyin' spintry. It's much more reliable."

Ersken eyed Aniki and her dangerous smile. By that hint alone, he knew better than to ask about what had happened to the poor cove…

* * *

**A/N: Well there it is! Aren't they both so mule headed? *shakes head*. I'll post the next chapter soon so we can get some more interactions going on! :D **


	6. Curst Dreams

**A/N: This chapter takes place over a month after the last. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Six: Curst Dreams**

* * *

Over a month had passed since Beka's return to Corus, and ever since that first night's supper, Beka and Rosto had kept their distance. The only time they saw each other was at their morning breakfasts which they still shared with their friends, or when Beka and Tunstall collected the Happy Bags each week from the Court of the Rogue. Even so, they rarely talked with the exception of "Pass the meat pasties please?" or "You didn't have that poor cove that was discovered in the gutter this morning killed, did you?"

Rosto disliked that the only other topics they seemed able to talk about that were neutral ground were Pounce's antics or the changing weather. If he had to remark upon the weather one more time to fill the silence between them, he thought he would scream!

But he knew it was also partly his fault for the awkwardness between them. With his jabs at gambling and gamblers, and through those his indirect jabs at Dale Rowan, he had distanced himself from Beka those first few weeks after she came home. Now it was almost impossible for him to get her to open her gob around him to do anything more than scold him for some cove or mot just discovered dead in the streets.

And, Mithros, if he tried to _flirt_ with her? She would just about bite his head off! Before he had always expected to get some kind of rise out of her, but now she was turning lethal. As of late, her tongue was becoming sharper than a blade around him!

Just the day before she had been in a foul mood, which in Beka's case makes her deadly quiet and causes her eyes to shimmer dangerously, when he had simply complimented her on the dress she wore to go visit her siblings at the Lord Provost's House. She had replied with a none-too-ladylike response that Rosto was sure the Lord Provost's lady would no doubt have passed out upon hearing. Of course, Rosto had only made it worse when he had chuckled at her response and asked her, "Havin' troubles with your man, love?".

"I am _not_ your love, and you have no business mucking about in my relationship with Dale Rowan! We're perfectly happy together without your comments! And the only man I seem to be having problems with is _you_, Rosto the Piper!" she had replied heatedly.

He had never seen her before in such a heated fit…and those weren't all that rare lately whenever he seemed to be around.

It confused him to no end.

"Majesty."

Rosto turned from his thoughts to look at the cove standing before him. He was dressed in simple street clothes and he looked tired. Rosto nodded to the man, who he recognized as the cove he had sent to Port Caynn, to watch over a certain…gambler. Knowing that Beka had received no visits from him nor was Rosto aware of any letters between them, Rosto had sent this spy of his to look in on Dale Rowan. Though he had joked with her the day before about Beka having 'man troubles', he had pondered more seriously on it before, noticing the lack of correspondence between the two. He had wanted to find out further, wondering if it was indeed the cause of Beka's bad mood. According to what Beka had told him, she and Dale were still together.

"I have returned wi' my findin's," the man said, bowing. He straightened. "When I arrived in Port Caynn, I soon discovered tha' Master Rowan had journeyed from the city. That is why it has taken me much longer to report. I tracked him on one of his many trips, Majesty. There he did nothin' more than deliver his cargo, stopping in many gamblin' dens for his leisure. He sent no letters, nor did he receive any."

Rosto listened with interest. No letters? He had Rowan pegged for the bad poetry type.

The cove continued on with his report, filling Rosto in on what Dale Rowan was doing. After listening for a while, Rosto had to admit the man's findings were rather uneventful, until…

"…as popular with the ladies as he is, Majesty. His charmin' talk works better than a mage's spell, it does. It's no wonder he found favor wit' the mots."

Frowning, Rosto looked at the man. He was actually probably no more than a lad, but hard life in the Lower City made him look almost five years older. "What do you mean by 'favor'?" Rosto asked. Though the lad was young, Rosto knew he was well old enough to know about what went on between coves and mots.

"Jus' flirtin' for the most part," the young man replied. Then he added, "But he did take a few mots to his rooms, on different evenings."

Rosto's anger boiled. That sarden spintry! Did he not value what he had?

Then he thought of Beka. She had remained faithful to the tosspot while he went off and bedded other mots! Did she have any idea? Rosto was certain she did not. What would she think of her beloved sweetheart when she found out?

Rosto stood up. Someone had to tell her. He knew he was probably the last person she would want to hear it from, but he had no choice. She had the right to know.

Then he stopped, remembering the hour. Beka was on duty. He sighed, sitting back down. There would still be a couple more hours left to her watch. He'd have to wait.

As he drained his cup of ale, he wasn't able to see one of the women of this Court slip from the room. The woman quickly left the Dancing Dove, padding across the street to Mistress Trout's lodgings quietly. Using her magic to open the door, she slid into Beka's room, closing the door behind her. Kora found a comfortable seat to wait in, her face grim.

* * *

Sarden tosspots! Loobies, the lot of them!

Beka stumbled into her rooms after her watch, tired and angry. That night she and Tunstall had gotten caught in the middle of yet another brawl down at one of the river dock's taverns. Ale had been flowing heavily down the throats of the scuts inside and tempers had flared easily. As in most tavern fights, Beka's only goal was to stay alive, clubbing some hot-headed tosspots when she could. With the help of some other Dog pairs, the brawl had settled just before the end of watch, which meant she was still in a right foul mood. Not that she hadn't been before, but the drunken tarse's had just added to it.

These last few days, Beka had been in a rotten mood. She tried to get in better spirits, but soon relapsed whenever she ran across idiots like the ones in the tavern…or whenever she saw Rosto the Piper.

She didn't like to dwell on why his presence always made her so edgy lately. Whether he was commenting on news in the city or flirting with her, she rounded on him just the same. Just his presence put her in a bad mood. She would rather think that she didn't know why…but she did, much to her annoyance. Ever since she had returned to Corus from Port Caynn, her damned traitorous mind had been plaguing her with memories of Rosto and his kisses. Why, she had no sarden idea. It confused and aggravated her all the same. Shouldn't she have been thinking of Dale Rowan? She had just ended a relationship with him only a month back, and she had liked him a lot! And they had definitely been more intimate than those of a few stolen kisses from a Rogue. Yet why did she not think of those nights? She certainly had enjoyed herself. So why was she only able to think of the warmth of Rosto's mouth and his chaste kisses?

Then of course there was that curst dream she had but two nights ago…

It hadn't been any better that the first person she saw when she left for the Lord Provost's House that morning was none other than Rosto the Piper. She had practically bitten his head off in shear annoyance, as if _he_ had deliberately manifested himself in her stupid, girlish dreams!

Beka was tearing off her shirt when she heard Pounce say, _Are you listening to me, silly girl? You have a visitor._

She stopped removing her shirt to look around. She could see Pounce's purple eyes glinting at her in the dark room. He sat on someone's lap.

"Bad day?" It was Kora.

Beka sunk down on the edge of her bed. "Tavern fight," she said in way of explanation. "I think I got clubbed on the head a dozen times. The tosspots only have such good aim when they're in their cups," she ground out. Then she looked at her friend. "Kora, what are you doing here? Ersken's going to worry when you're not there when he gets in."

"Don't worry, I left him a note," she told her. Then she leaned forward in her chair. Pounce protested slightly. "I came here to talk to you, Beka. Lately you've been in a bad temper, and I came to find out why. What's wrong, Beka?"

It was a moment before Beka said anything, then she grimaced. "Nothing. I'm sorry; I've just had a miserable last few days. But you needn't worry, Kora, I'll work it out."

Kora didn't accept that so readily. "Truly?" she asked. "Truly, you're okay? There's nothing you wish to talk about?"

When Beka shook her head, Kora asked quietly, "Is everything okay between you and Dale?"

It was too dark in the room for Kora to see the guilt showing in Beka's eyes. She had let everyone believe that she and Dale were still together, when in truth they had not been since before she left Port Caynn. She hadn't wanted to lie to her friends, but it was necessary, and it was all because she had let Rosto believe they were still together. In truth, the way he had regarded her after her return, his eyes so guarded and even slightly hurt-looking, had affected her more than she cared to admit. But to even consider going with a rusher, and the Rogue to boot…it scared her silly. Though she was fairly certain Rosto had still thought her involved with Dale Rowan, she had confirmed it on impulse two mornings after her arrival. At the time she had surprised herself with her declaration, but now she realized that it gave her reason to distance herself from the Rogue's affections that confused her so. Of course her mind had decided to do the opposite and remind her practically every minute of Corus's Rogue and his soft lips, and her confusion and frustration about it had kept her on edge.

How could she explain this to anyone else when she didn't even know for certain herself?

Beka looked at her friend, replying softly, "No. Everything's fine between us."

For a long while Kora sat running her hand over Pounce. Finally, she spoke, "Then I think there is something you ought to know." Kora told her what she had heard of Dale Rowan entertaining other mots, though she did not reveal her source. After she had finished she said, "I'm sorry, Beka, but I felt that you'd rather hear it from me than-"

"It's alright, Kora," interrupted Beka, getting up to pour herself a cup of water. "I'd be lying if I said the news did not hurt, but in all honesty, it does not surprise me. Dale likes having mots around, and he treats them well. It's just that one mot cannot hold him down for a long time." She smiled with sad understanding. Then she sighed and turned to look at her friend. "Kora, Dale Rowan and I are no longer together."

Kora got up, taking Pounce in her arms. "Oh, Beka, I'm so sorry, when-?"

Beka put up her hand. "Not since Port Caynn actually," she admitted guiltily. "I'm sorry I lied."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Kora asked, puzzled.

"It's…complicated," answered Beka. "I- you won't tell Rosto, will you?"

Kora frowned for a moment. "Why-?"

"Because I don't want him to gloat of course!" said Beka suddenly, striding to a chair.

Watching her with a strange expression on her face, Kora still frowned. It was a poor excuse and they both knew it. "Where did you get such a crackbrained idea?" she asked. "You know Rosto wouldn't do that. He cares too much-"

"I just don't want him to know," said Beka firmly.

"But he already does," Kora told her, "at least about Dale Rowan goin' around with other mots. He was none-too-pleased when he found out this evening. I wanted to beat him here before he came to tell you."

"It's none of his business," Beka protested.

"He made it his business when he noticed your temper running short. Beka, he cares for you and doesn't want to see you hurt."

Beka bit her lip and looked at the floor. She knew Kora was right.

Placing Pounce down on the ground, Kora asked, "Is it alright if I let him know the truth? That way you won't have to deal with an angry Rosto come morning. It's not a pretty sight."

Giving her friend a small smile of gratitude, Beka just gave one suggestion. "Just don't let him know we've not been together since Port Caynn. Let him guess."

Kora's smile glinted in the darkness. "It will drive him crazy, but I'll do so. It may even prove to be entertaining."

* * *

**A/N: So, Beka's having dreams about a certain Rogue ;D Poor Rosto didn't know what hit him that morning :D **

**I'll update in a few days!**


	7. Unexpected

**A/N: Sorry for the delay in the update! I just got back from a trip, but I'm posting this as soon as I could! Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Unexpected**

* * *

For the first time in almost two months, Rosto awoke feeling rested and in good spirits. When he walked over to wash his face in the wash basin, for once he did not curse when the cold water hit his face. He was in far too good a mood for just a bit of cold water to douse it.

As he dressed, he thought over the night before. He had been waiting in the main room of the Dancing Dove when Kora had slipped back in late at night. He had found out from Ersken where she had been at such an hour. When Kora had seen him, she had stopped and smiled with good humor. "It seems not even my Dog can keep secrets from you."

"It's rather difficult when you're just down the hallway from the city's Rogue," he had replied. Then changing the subject abruptly, he had asked, "Did you tell Beka?"

Kora nodded.

With concern in his eyes, he had then asked, "Did she know?"

"She said she guessed as much, said that she half expected it actually."

Rosto had frowned then. "Don't tell me she still plans to-" He had stopped when Kora shook her head.

"No," she had told him. "In fact, she and Dale Rowan are no longer together, so she told me." She had watched him closely as she said it.

With a surprised look, Rosto had looked sharply at his friend. "Then that must be why she's been in such a foul mood," he had remarked more to himself than Kora. "It must have happened recently." He then looked back at Kora, who again shook her head.

"I don't know when," she had replied, "but my bet's as good as yours."

Rosto had then rubbed his chin thoughtfully, wondering what and who had ended the relationship. As he pondered this, he couldn't stop the delighted feeling from welling up in his chest. She and that spintry were no longer together! Without realizing it, Rosto had then whistled his way up to his rooms, leaving a grinning Kora to follow.

Leaving his rooms to go to breakfast that morning, Rosto whistled yet again. A wench that tidied the rooms tried not to stare as he nodded to her as he passed her in the hallway. She looked after him with amazement, soon hurrying to tell the other mots what she had seen.

In high spirits, Rosto entered the dining room they used for their breakfasts every morning. With a quick glance around, he realized Beka was not there. Taking his place among his friends and helping himself to the basket of rolls they offered him, Rosto asked, "Where's our favorite Lady Dog this morning?"

"She had a rough night," replied Ersken. "She and Tunstall tried to break up another tavern fight. She must be sleeping it off."

Rosto nodded his understanding as Aniki handed him a cup of ale. When he took a sip and realized what it was, Rosto handed the cup back to her. "Pour me some cider, please."

Aniki looked at him strangely. "But you've had ale with your breakfast for over a month-"

"It's too early for ale," he told her. "I'd rather have some cider."

She did as he asked, but she couldn't help but look at him oddly. So did everyone else, with the exception of Kora who only grinned.

Suddenly Rosto got an idea and he stood, gathering up his food with him. Then he had Ersken hand him one of the empty baskets and he filled it up with food. After that he headed to the door as the others watched him silently.

"Where are you going?" asked Aniki

"Taking breakfast to our grumbling, and most likely very hungry, Beka," he grinned.

When he shut the door behind him, Ersken looked at his friends. "Is he cracked? With the mood she's been in lately, rose bushes would be considered more cuddlesome."

"So would a bed of knives," murmured Aniki.

"Would anyone like more cider?" asked Kora, grinning widely.

The other two nodded, still puzzling over Rosto's fine mood. Kora, on the other hand, could do naught but smile.

* * *

Strolling through Corus' main marketplace, Rosto's sharp eyes took in everything around him. He recognized almost every face he passed, and his good memory even remembered many of their names. Most were rushers and thieves, but some were just cityfolk that often appeared before him at the Dancing Dove.

When he walked up to one of the flower carts, the flower girls smiled prettily at him, their bright eyes bold and cunning. Giving them no more attention than he would give anyone else, Rosto asked, "Have you any gillyflowers?"

"But of course, Majesty," grinned one of the older flower girls. She turned to the cart behind them, opening a closed compartment. Though there were no gillyflowers displayed in the selling cart in front of the girls, the mot pulled a bunch of them from the hidden compartment. "Just for you, Majesty," she said, handing him the bouquet.

Rosto took them with a smile, paying the mots well.

From the other side of the marketplace, a hard-looking cove watched Rosto smile at the girls before he walked away, the tightness that had been a familiar sight on the Rogue's face for almost two months now gone. With fingers that were nicked and scarred, the cove rubbed the long scar across his square jaw, thinking…

* * *

Beka awoke with a curse. No matter how many tavern brawls she fought in, she always awoke the next morning tired and aching. That would have been reason enough for her cursing as she rolled out of bed, as would the pounding at the door that had awakened her in the first place, but those were not the only reasons for her colorful language.

No, the pounding at the door had interrupted yet another one of her dreams about Rosto the Piper. Foolishly, Beka wondered if there was some new spell mages could perform that could somehow manipulate one's thoughts and dreams. If so, she would easily accuse Rosto of doing so. How else would she explain those silly dreams in which he appeared? And knowing Rosto, he'd probably think it great fun to torment her in such a way. Other mots might be won over by his good looks and trim body, but he was a rusher first and foremost. She wouldn't allow herself to have such girlish thoughts!

It was too bad her mind didn't seem to agree…

Cursing as she forced herself into a pair of breeches, she yelled to whoever pounded at her door, "Hold on a second, you impatient looby!" Tucking in her shirt hurriedly and combing her tangled hair back out of her eyes with her fingers, Beka plodded to the door, grabbing the handle. "I don't care what your excuse is, I ought to club you on the-"

She stopped abruptly, staring at the man who stood in her doorway. He smiled.

"Now, is that any way to treat an old friend?" he asked, grinning.

For a moment Beka couldn't get herself to speak. Then she said slowly, "_Dale?_"

The man smiled.

* * *

**A/N: Dun-dun-dun! The plot thickens… :D I shall update very soon!**


	8. Dale

**A/N: Without further ado, here it is! (Since you all probably want to get to it :D!)**

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Dale **

* * *

"What are you doing here?" she asked, barely able to believe her eyes.

"Just thought I'd stop in while I'm passing through," Dale smiled. Then he laughed, taking in her appearance, "Did I come at a bad time?"

"What? No, I'm sorry I was still sleeping off last night's watch." She waved him in to her room. He sat down on the edge of her bed while she closed the door. Her mind was a whirlwind. He was the one that had said it was best if they not even visit each other! What was he doing here now?

"You have a good landlady," he remarked, reaching to pet Pounce who avoided his hand. Dale chuckled. "When I asked to make sure you lived here, she wouldn't give me any information. For a moment I thought her mute until she ordered me out of the way of her sweeping. You must pay your board on time."

Beka shook her head, smiling slightly. "No. Mistress Trout's just aware of my line of work and wishes no disturbances at her lodgings. She likes to keep the place clean."

As Dale laughed again, Beka wondered what he was there for. If he had stopped by just to chatter, he could take it somewhere else. She disliked meaningless chatter.

Seeing the look in Beka's eye, Dale shook his head, that familiar smile on his face. "I know what you're thinking. 'What is he doing here?' Honestly, I'm just passing through on my way back to Port Caynn, and I know I said about visiting but I thought, why not? Here I am in Corus and I'm stuck here until the next boat leaves at four of the clock. So, I looked you up. It's okay with you, isn't it?"

"Of course," Beka assured him. It would be rude to say no, and truthfully she had no reason to. Since they had parted ways, the hurt over the end of their relationship had ended as quickly as it came and now she just looked back on it- and Dale- fondly. It had been fun, but she had known before it had even started that their relationship would never have been a long term one, and she didn't regret one moment of it.

"Good. So where did you get that from?" he asked, indicating the bruise on her left cheekbone.

"Tavern brawl last night," she told him. "The cove that gave it to me got worse than he gave."

Dale laughed loudly. "It would have surprised me if he hadn't."

* * *

Whistling up to the door of Mistress Trout's lodgings, Rosto bowed to the older woman who was leaning out her window, cleaning the shutters.

"Good morning, Mistress. Has Mistress Cooper left her rooms yet?"

The old mot eyed the handsome Rogue. "No, not that I've seen. Of course, it's not as if I keep tabs on my tenants."

Rosto grinned, "No, of course not."

Mistress Trout nodded to the bowl of gillyflowers Rosto held in the crook of his arm. "I haven't seen you bring by some of those in quite some time. Any special occasion, lad?"

Smiling, Rosto shook his head. "Nothing unparticular, Mistress Trout."

"Uh huh," said the woman, clearly not believing him.

"Why, Mistress, you don't sound as if you believe me!" Rosto teased.

"I just haven't seen you coming around here lately, lad, that's all."

Grinning into the old lady's shrewd eyes, Rosto said, "I've been…preoccupied lately, but I feel I'll be visiting more frequently than I have been now. Beka's not the only one I miss visiting." He winked at the older woman.

"Oh, save that talk for the young mots already chasin' you," she replied, shooing him away with her hand. "I'm old enough to be your gran."

Rosto grinned, seeing the obvious pleasure in the woman's face as she laughed at him. There was a pinch of color in her cheeks and a merry twinkle to her eye. Nodding to her, Rosto headed inside.

Mistress Trout watched him go, shaking her head with a smile. Then she remembered the other charming cove that had entered her lodgings but fifteen minutes ago, asking for Beka Cooper. Whoever he was, she hoped that Rosto and he were friends.

But for some reason, she didn't think it likely.

* * *

Taking the stairs two at a time, Rosto finally stepped in front of Beka's door. He was about to place the basket of food and the bowl of gillyflowers outside her door when he thought better of it. After making sure they were secure in his left arm, he knocked on the door with his right. He was certain he heard voices inside and knocked again.

A moment later the door opened. Rosto smiled at Beka. "I brought you over some food from breakfast, knowin' you'd be hungry after that brawl last night." He didn't know why she stared at him so, but he handed her the basket nonetheless. She took it, silent and looking even a little flustered…

Reaching out, Rosto placed a knuckle under her chin so he could see her face better. He fingered the bruise on her cheekbone gently. "Nice bruise, love," he said with a grin.

Suddenly another voice laughed from within, "I would pay good coin to see the other cove's face."

Not moving his hand, Rosto frowned. Beka's eyes went wide, but Rosto didn't see it. Instead his dark eyes fixed on the young man still chuckling from his seat on the edge of Beka's bed. Rosto's face changed from confused to impossible to read. Slowly his hand slipped from Beka's face as he took in his surroundings. The first thing he noticed after staring at the cove was that the sheets on the bed were rumpled as if someone- or someone_s_ had hurried out of bed…to answer the door mayhap.

His face still unreadable, he turned back to Beka. That's when he truly noticed how disheveled she looked. Her hair was tousled and her clothes had been thrown on hurriedly. The cove had obviously had more time to right himself.

While the silence stretched on, Dale had risen from where he sat. Coming to stand beside Beka, he thrust his hand out toward Rosto. "Sorry for my bad manners. You must be a friend of Beka's. I'm Dale, Dale Rowan."

Rosto looked at his outstretched hand like it was a snake about to bite him. Seeing him standing there, in her rooms, with that grin on his face and the hastily dressed Beka beside him was too much for Rosto to take. Without so much as a thought, and quicker than a cat, Rosto pulled back his arm and slammed his fist into the man's jaw.

Dale Rowan went down in a heap.

* * *

"Rosto!" Beka cried as she dropped to the floor beside Dale. She knelt over him. "Dale! Dale, are you okay?"

"He's just unconscious, he'll come around soon, unfortunately," said Rosto with annoyance.

Beka glared up at him. "What did you do that for?"

"He finally got what he's had coming to him for a long time," said Rosto moodily.

"What are you talking about?" Beka demanded. "Dale's a fine man, unlike _some _people I know."

"Oh, right, and sleepin' around with other mots is what you call a fine man, is it?" Rosto's anger was beginning to boil over.

"Rosto, Dale can do whatever he wants with his life. We're no longer together," she told him crossly.

"Oh? Then how do you explain what I've _obviously_ interrupted?"

"What?" asked Beka, puzzled.

"Can't you see what he's doing, Beka?" Rosto said frustratingly. "He's pulling you along with the rest of his mots waiting for him to show up on their doorstep again. And when he does, he's all apologies and tender words, just to get back in your arms again!" He waved his hand around the room. "And from what I see, his little game worked!"

She was about to ask what he spoke of when she saw his eyes flick over her sloppily attired form. Finally realizing what he was implying, Beka said in a clear, hard voice, "_Nothing_ happened here, Rosto. Dale showed up at my door not fifteen minutes before you did, and all we did was _talk_. _Nothing _else."

He scoffed. "Then mayhap with a few more minutes of his honeyed words, you'd be tellin' a different tale," he said scornfully.

"_What_ do you think I am?" Beka asked slowly, his comment fueling her anger, "Some naïve country gixie that has less brains in her head than the animals she tends? I'm not stupid, Rosto. I'm my own mot and I can take care of myself."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it, Beka," he replied harshly, offended that she had thought such a thing. "You're one of the smartest mots I know." Then he pointed his finger at Dale, "But I also know his kind, Beka. Once the likes of him start talkin', mots fall in a line behind him. When that happens, they string you along with the rest until they grow bored with the others and come runnin' back, only to leave again."

Beka glared at him, saying coldly, "You can't judge others by yourself, Rosto. Dale Rowan is a better man than you think. Not everyone's like you."

Rosto's eyes flared with fury.

For a long moment they stood matching glare for glare. Then Dale Rowan began to stir on the floor. Rosto's smile was cold and humorless. "Then take care of your _darlin'_ man, Beka, and protect him from the likes of me. And tell him if he's got any sense, he'd best be on the next river boat out of my city."

He stomped to the door and had just yanked it open to leave when he remembered the gillyflowers crushed in the crook of his arm. "I almost forgot, these are for you," he said tersely. Not wanting to be reminded of his good mood from before, he put them on the floor next to the door. Straightening, he looked back at Beka once more, his mouth tight. "I hope you feel better."

Then he turned on his heel, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

**A/N: I'll update soon! Rosto sure know how to pack a punch, doesn't he? ;D**


	9. Misunderstandings

**A/N: Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Misunderstandings **

* * *

Beka glared at the door, never having felt so angry with Rosto before in the entire time she'd known him. Not only had he misjudged Dale terribly, but he also obviously thought her too weak-minded to be able to recognize and resist a charming man's advances. She never lost her head around men, she simply wouldn't allow it! If anything, her thoughts became more shrewd and clear as she worked through all the possible consequences that could result in her taking up with a man. Mayhap that was also why she had had so few sweethearts, but her thoroughness was also what kept her from taking up the foolish relationships that so many other mots wasted their time on.

Like if she was to take up with Rosto the Piper for instance.

Just the fact that he was the Rogue and she a Dog was enough to render the notion ridiculous. And him accusing _Dale_ of such low character! Why, Rosto was the one carousing with doxies while she was away!

_But he hadn't done so until certain news of your own behavior had reached his ears_, Pounce reminded her as he licked his paws as if he hand not a care in the world.

Beka was about to retort when Dale groaned beside her. Suddenly remembering the man, she quickly helped him sit up. His jaw was already swelling.

"Wow," the young man joked, "remind me never to get in a fight with him."

"Are you okay?" Beka asked him.

Dale nodded. "Old sweetheart of yours?" he asked, touching his swollen jaw. He winced.

Frowning, Beka looked at his jaw. "The cursed man, he had no right to hit you!" Getting up to pour him some cider, she said, "And no, he's not an old sweetheart of mine. He's just a crackbrained fool that thinks I can't take care of myself!"

He raised his eyebrows as she thrust the cup at him. After taking a careful sip, Dale said, "Surely he doesn't think that."

"Oh, but he does!" she replied hotly. "Apparently _he_ thinks I'm in need of protection from a honey-tongued man's advances, as if I'm too weak!"

Dale hid a smiled behind his hand. The thought _was_ ridiculous.

"And _then_ he thinks that _we_ spent the night together, when he already knows we're not together! What does he think I am, one of his doxies? After seeing my unmade bed, you, and me dressed as I am, the looby-headed fool jumped to conclusions, not even caring to ask for an explanation! If he only would have _listened_, than there'd be no reason for you to have a swollen jaw right now. But oh, no, he couldn't be sensible could he?"

"To give the man credit, if I had been in his shoes and saw what he saw here, I'd have probably jumped to the same conclusions," Dale told her. He grinned at her. "You do look like you just rolled out of bed."

"That's because I did!" she cried. "I was still asleep when you came to my door! I didn't have time to dress properly."

"Then think of how it must have looked to him when he walked in. No wonder he punched me."

"He would have punched you if you were a Mithran priest, once you told him your name," she told him.

Dale raised his eyebrows. "And you say he _isn't_ an old sweetheart of yours?"

"Of course not. He's just a crackbrained cove that puts his nose where it isn't wanted!"

Seeing her anger rise again, Dale had a hard time believing that he was just some meddlesome cove. There was definitely more there than Beka was letting on.

"…and then he accuses _you_ of stringing me along with the rest of your mots, saying that you had grown tired of the others and had come back to lure me back in to your arms for a night! Then he acts as if he's doing me a favor by punching you!"

"That's not why I was here, Beka," Dale told her.

"I know that, but he was certain you were!"

Dale thought for a moment. Then he said, "Mayhap it's because he cares for you and didn't want to see you hurt."

Beka scoffed. "He just couldn't stand me being in the arms of another man!"

Again, Dale tucked back a grin. His assumptions had been correct; there was definitely more to her meddlesome cove. "And, again, mayhap he wanted to protect you from such a honey-tongued, mot-lovin' man."

"But you're not like that!" Beka protested. "If he would have only waited, he could have found out for himself that he misjudged you completely!"

"He misjudged me, certainly, but I can't blame the man. When a man cares for a mot, he looks on the rest of the mot's male friends as if they were no better than the scummer in the streets. And another lover…well, I'm surprised I'm not dead."

As Beka started to protest, Dale put a hand over her mouth. "This cove of yours obviously cares for you more than you give him credit for. I could see that in the short amount of time since he appeared at your doorstep." He grinned. "At least I don't feel bad in giving you up to such a man. If he was anything less, I would throw him out of Corus and send him on my way myself."

"No, instead he's ordering _you_ out on the next boat to Port Caynn," Beka muttered.

Dale laughed. "I figured as much. He seems like a tough cove." Seeing the now thoughtful look in her eyes, Dale asked her quietly, "Do you care for him as he cares for you, my Beka?"

She suddenly gave him a sharp look. "Are you cracked now, too?" she asked, her voice rising once more. "And you're right, Dale, he _is_ a tough cove. Did I mention he's a rusher?"

"I could assume as much," Dale said with a shrug. "He hits too hard and fast for a cityman, and he's no Dog or soldier."

"And he's not just a rusher, either. He's the king of them," she told him.

Dale raised his eyebrows. "He's Corus' rogue? Rosto the Piper?" When she nodded, Dale whistled. "You like getting yourself tangled with Rogues don't you, pretty Beka?"

She scowled at him, "Not of my own free will."

He laughed again and rubbed his swollen jaw gently. "And here I'd heard that Rosto the Piper was a fair, reasonable Rogue." Then he grinned at Beka. "But apparently those attributes are thrown to the wolves when you come in between him and what he wants."

Beka glared. "Then Rosto the Piper had better get used to waiting, because I'll never go with a rusher- and the king of thieves at that!"

Dale didn't try to hide his grin this time. He wondered if she had ever thought that way about gamblers, too. Then taking her face gently in his hands, he told her softly, "Don't fight it, Beka. Take my word for it, he cares for you more than I ever could." He smiled ruefully. "I'm the looby who left you. But Rosto the Piper is here to stay. I'd bet my whole year's wages on it."

A knock sounded at the door.

"Should I act like I'm still unconscious?" Dale teased.

Beka ignored him and opened the door to reveal Kora standing there. "What happened, Beka? I saw Rosto storm out of-" Kora stopped when she saw the man sitting on the ground, his jaw swollen. Beka saw the question in her dark eyes.

"Kora, this is my friend, Dale Rowan." Understanding immediately dawned in Kora's eyes as she stared at the man. "Dale, this is my friend, Kora."

"Another friend, huh? Let's hope you don't hit as hard as the last one," he joked, getting to his feet.

Kora continued to stare.

Not getting the laugh he had hoped for, Dale turned away from the staring mot and told Beka, "I'd better be going. As always, it's been eventful. I'd better buy myself passage down at the river docks before I'm no longer able to talk."

"Dale, you don't have to leave now," Beka protested. "You already have passage on a later boat."

"Yes, but I doubt that'll come soon enough for someone's liking," Dale grinned. He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek but then thought the better of it. "I'd bet he'd not like that either," he explained, his eyes dancing.

Beka stuck her chin out. "I'm my own mot, Dale Rowan. I'm not afraid of Rosto the Piper."

"Mayhap you aren't," he joked, fingering his jaw, "but I don't wish to take any chances."

As he walked to the door after bidding Beka and her gaping friend farewell, Dale saw the gillyflowers lying on the floor. The Rogue had been holding them when he had come to Beka's door. Picking them up, he told Beka, "Remember what I said earlier about your friend, Beka." He lifted the flowers so she could see them before setting them on her table. Knowing that he had already made a big mess of things, Dale knew one thing he must do to make it right…

Then, with one last farewell, he was gone.

Finally released from her stunned trance, Kora turned to Beka. "Good-looking _and_ smart," she approved.

But Beka barely heard her. She was too busy gazing at the red gillyflowers that were now sitting on her table.

* * *

Kora had not been the only one to see Rosto storm out of Mistress Trout's lodgings that morning. Hidden well out of sight, a sturdy-looking cove had watched Corus' Rogue enter into the building with a basket and flowers. He was also there when Rosto charged out, his earlier good mood replaced by a fierce temper.

The watching cove took this all in while rubbing the scar on his jaw absentmindedly. It seemed as if this Cooper mot meant a lot to the current Rogue…

* * *

Rosto finally stormed into the Dancing Dove around dusk that evening. No one knew where the Rogue had disappeared to for so many hours, and seeing the look on his face, not even the stupidest of loobies would dare ask. Those gathered in the common room of the Dancing Dove all pondered why the Rogue was suddenly in such a horrible mood this time. Only that morning he had been smiling as if walking on air! Now his face was as dark as the sky with a coming storm.

He brusquely asked a serving wench for their strongest ale as he took his seat on the dais. When the mot brought his cup, he drank it down in one gulp and asked for another. Rosto didn't notice that the din in the room had lessened since his arrival. He felt so many emotions inside him- anger, hurt, defeat, regret- that he could hardly think. He had never in his life felt so tossed around by emotion before, and never by a mot, but things had changed ever since he had arrived in Tortall. On his first night in the strange city, he had found himself intrigued and interested in the shy pretty mot that insisted on not having ale with her meal. He knew right off that she was different than other mots, and that immediately got his attention. Though shy, he saw a determined set to her features, and the steadiness with which she regarded others and the stubborn set of her chin told him she had fight in her as well. He always liked that. But if he had known furthering his acquaintance with her meant _this_, he might have gone back to Scanra, because how he felt about Beka Cooper now was as unfamiliar to him as it would be to dress in the king's clothes.

With Dale Rowan, on the other hand, he knew exactly where his feelings stood!

He was about to ask for another cup of ale when Kora appeared in front of him. "You have a visitor waiting in your rooms," she told him.

Rosto eyed her. "Who?" he asked gruffly.

"Someone who wishes to speak with you privately," she replied.

For one crazy moment, he thought it might be Beka. Quickly he pushed that from his mind. What would she have to say to him that she hadn't already? Besides, she was already beginning her watch.

Knowing Kora would not let anyone in there that might want to harm him, Rosto rose from his chair and silently headed toward the stairs. As he climbed he wondered who his visitor could be. Reaching his door, he thrust it open.

Who he saw there was the _last_ person he would ever think to see in his rooms…and the only person he did not want to ever see again!

* * *

**A/N: I have a feeling we all know who's waiting for him :D **

**Okay, I'm going away for the weekend and won't be back until Tuesday and I'm not sure whether I'll have access to any computer/internet while I'm gone. If you would like I can post chapter ten on Friday before I leave, but I want to warn you that if I do, it'll end with a cliffhanger…one much worse than this chapter's. Let me know, but just remember it'll be five days after I post chapter 10 (if you want me to that is) until I can probably post the next one. Let me know what you want me to do! **

**But anyway, I hope you liked the chapter!**


	10. The Rogue and the Gambler

**A/N: By popular demand…here's the next chapter :D Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Ten: The Rogue and the Gambler**

* * *

"What are you doing here?" Rosto ground out, fists clenched at his side.

"Kora let me in here hours ago," said Dale Rowan, getting up from the seat he occupied.

Rosto was about to yell down the hall for Kora and demand an explanation when Dale said, "I came to talk to you about what happened this morning."

"There's nothing to talk about," he replied coldly, looking at the man in front of him. He was younger than Rosto, mayhap by a couple of years. That fact didn't help in the cove's favor, since Beka always said Rosto was too old for her. This man was older than she, but closer in age to her than Rosto was. He bit back a scowl.

"Beka told me why you punched me," Dale went on as Rosto stomped over to his side table to pour himself a drink. He didn't want to listen to what the boy-man had to say. "And what she told you was right," he continued. "Nothing happened between us."

Rosto was silent, his back to Dale, as Dale told him exactly what had happened, from his arrival at Beka's door that morning, until Rosto appeared not fifteen minutes later. Rosto drank, hardly listening. He had already heard as much from Beka already and he had believed her when she said they had not lain together, but of this man's intentions he was still quite sure, even if nothing had happened- yet. Rosto had no intention of ever giving the man another chance to hurt Beka through his games.

"So why did you visit her?" Rosto asked harshly.

"I was on my way through to Port Caynn and I thought I'd stop by. I only wanted to talk," Dale replied truthfully.

"_Talk_," Rosto spat, "I'm sure your talkin' always gets you what you want, doesn't it?"

"Just like your foul temper?" he asked innocently. "It's no wonder my Beka prefers charming, good-humored sorts."

Before he could so much as blink, Rosto had Dale pinned against the wall, his arm at his throat. "Beka belongs to no man, especially not the likes of _you_, with your games to charm mots into your beds," Rosto said, shaking with fury. "_And if you hurt her, I'll give you a personal tour of the river's bottom. Play your games elsewhere, bank courier._"

The combined effects of the Rogue's cold dark eyes and fierce words were enough to confirm Dale's assumptions. Despite the unyielding arm at his throat, Dale managed to rasp out, "I knew it."

"Knew what?" asked an angry Rosto.

"That you care for her. I had guessed as much when you came to the door with the basket and flowers, and even more so after I roused from your punch. Which, by the way, is the hardest punch I think I've ever received and the healer that tended me would agree."

Unknowingly, Rosto's hold loosened on Rowan. With a measuring gaze fastened on the man's face, Rosto asked, voice still hard, "Even if what you think was true, that still doesn't explain why you're here. If you've come to boast, you can soon join the other arrogant fools in the Black God's Realm that have crossed me afore."

Dale shook his head. "I haven't come to boast or fight. Instead I've come to set things right among the three of us."

Rosto narrowed his gaze as he slowly slackened his hold on Rowan. "If you're wantin' my blessing for the two of you, you waste your time, Rowan."

Again, Dale shook his head. No longer pinned against the wall, the two men stood apart from each other, their eyes locked. Dale could speak easily again. "No. Beka and I have gone our separate ways. I thought enough time had passed since our parting in Port Caynn, but apparently I made a mistake in showing up here."

"Port Caynn?" asked Rosto, his brows furrowed. "You parted in Port Caynn?"

Dale nodded. "And we agreed to end our relationship completely, with no visits or even letters. When I came to Corus however, I looked Beka up." Sensing the change in Rosto's mood, he touched his healing jaw and joked, "I now realize the mistake I made."

Not paying attention to the man's jest, Rosto's mind was still stuck on the previous thought. Port Caynn? Why had Beka made them believe she and Dale were still together when they weren't?

"I made a mess of things by coming back here," Dale went on. He grinned ironically, "It's just what I had feared when we agreed to no longer see each other, and despite what you may think, I did _not_ come here to lure her back into my arms for a night. I like Beka and I respect her."

Then he grinned. "In fact, I bet if she hadn't been on her hunt with Goodwin, and playing the part of the pretty Puppy, she probably wouldn't have given me the time of day if I asked. I knew Beka deserved someone much better than me from the start."

Through this, Rosto listened silently. He was beginning to think that he had misjudged Dale Rowan entirely. He was no spineless bank courier, nor was he the mot-lovin' spintry Rosto had thought him to be. In fact, with Rowan's easy-going nature, Rosto thought they might even have been friends…

Rosto bit back a wicked smile. The thought of him actually becoming friends with the man who had loved Beka was perhaps taking things a little too far…

* * *

After Rowan had left to catch his boat to Port Caynn, Rosto remained in his rooms, thinking.

He had jumped to conclusions that morning as quickly as the city's gossips hurried to spread news of the latest scandals throughout the Lower City. After Rowan's visit, Rosto had also learned that he was, as Beka had said, a far more decent cove than Rosto had given him credit for.

Good man or no, however, it still had felt good to punch him, Rosto thought. He couldn't help but grin at that.

As he thought over the day's events, Rosto pondered what to do next. He admitted to himself that he had acted the fool, going off as he had. It was no wonder why Beka had been so angry with him. Now Dale Rowan was out of the picture- had been, in fact, for over a month. He found his thoughts often returning to that, still wondering why she had made him think otherwise. After some contemplation, Rosto figured it would be best to ask Beka that question…and apologize.

Suddenly getting an idea, Rosto walked to his window. Night had fallen but there were still a few hours left to Beka's watch. Then heading for his door, he figured it best to see to his Court for those few hours. They'd be happy with his better mood.

* * *

With a bunch of red gillyflowers in hand, Rosto made his way quietly to the rear entrance of Mistress Trout's lodgings. The night was quiet and the streets deserted except for the mumpers and rushers that roamed at this hour. With the end of Evening Watch passed, cityfolk knew better than to walk the streets at this time with only Night Watch on duty.

Not wanting Beka to beat him to her rooms, Rosto moved quickly. Slipping inside the building noiselessly- he'd had a lot of practice- he made his way quietly up the stairs. When he reached her door, he took the picks from his breeches pocket and made quick work of the lock- he'd had plenty of practice at this as well.

Rosto stepped into her room. Immediately he felt uneasy. His sharp eyes took in the room, trying to locate the cause of his uneasiness. The room was quiet and dark. Feeling the sudden need to free his hands, Rosto moved to place the flowers down on Beka's table. It was as he did so that he caught sight of the dark form emerge from its hiding place. He immediately knew that the figure was too large and masculine to be Beka.

In the split second it took for the intruder to come out of hiding and for Rosto to realize it was not Beka, both men reacted quickly. As Rosto turned and a knife appeared in his hand as quickly as if by magic, the other cove lunged at him from the shadows. Rosto moved to avoid the sweeping arc of his assailant's long, deadly blade.

The blade was being wielded to kill…

* * *

**A/N: Well there it is. The cliffhanger . I'll be back to post the next chapter on Tuesday night! I hope you liked it (cliffhanger excluded :D).**


	11. Encounter with the Rogue

**A/N: I'm back from my trip, and as I promised, here's the next update!! (I'll reply to your previous chapter reviews after I post this, since I figured you'd be waiting for this chapter already :D). Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Encounter with the Rogue**

* * *

Rosto's attacker was swift and skilled with a blade, but after the initial attack when Rosto was caught off-guard, the fight turned in Rosto's favor. When one of Rosto's blades bit into the muscle of the cove's sword arm, the man cursed and fell back.

"I hate to disappoint you, but these aren't my rooms. Though your fighting is still good, your sense of direction is sorely lacking," Rosto told him, no humor in his voice.

The men stood apart, watching each other with sharp, measuring eyes. Rosto had recognized his assailant as soon as the man had stepped out of the shadows. If his skill with the blade had not given him away, then the long scar on his jaw would have. He was a rusher in Rosto's Court, a rusher who had been dissatisfied with Rosto's rule ever since he had taken the throne. He complained that it wasn't right to have a foreigner for a Rogue, on top of many other things, but he had never voiced a challenge to the Rogue. The rusher was one of the best fighters in Rosto's Court, but Rosto was better- and the other cove knew it.

"I wasn't lookin' fer ye!" the other cove spat.

"Then it seems you've failed again," said Rosto, voice hard. "Because here I am."

"I was comin' to pay yer pretty Dog a visit, not ye. It's about time someone took care of ye, _Rosto the Piper_," the man snarled, "but the other sarden tosspots that call themselves rushers are too loyal to ye, the traitorous scuts. So I had t' find another way to finally bring ye down."

"You damned coward," Rosto said through clenched teeth, barely reining in his temper. "Instead of challenging me outright, you planned to get me through hurting a friend that has no business with the Rogue at all."

"No business?" the man scoffed. "She's been affectin' the whole Court through yer mood swings ever since she ran off t' Port Caynn! A Rogue that's tied back by his emotions isn't fit t' rule and neither is a foreigner!" Suddenly the man leered at Rosto, "I guess it shouldn't have surprised me t' find ye here. She's a pretty mot, fer all she's a Dog. Prolly worth a good swivin' too, eh, _Majesty_? Mayhap after I've finished with ye here I'll find out fer myself-"

With a cry of fury, Rosto lunged at the man.

Both men were unaware of the sound of a barking dog and hissing cat, followed by the sound of boots, coming up the stairs as they fought. Rosto's attacker was near the door when it swung open and Achoo and Pounce raced in. In that second of confusion, the man took his leave, flying down the stairs. Rosto raced after him, followed closely by Pounce, Achoo, and then a very confused Beka.

By the time Beka made it outside and had followed them into the alleyway, she found Rosto standing with his back to her. She looked around him to see the other cove on the ground, a knife sticking out between his shoulder blades.

Immediately, Beka ran around Rosto to the man on the ground.

"He's alive, just unconscious," Rosto told her, watching as she felt for his pulse. When she looked up at him with questioning eyes, Rosto told her what had happened.

As he did so, Beka instantly grabbed for the hobbles she carried and tied the man's wrists and ankles. Then she looked at Rosto. "Why didn't you kill him?"

He shrugged. "He didn't challenge me outright. I'll leave him for you Dogs to take care of instead. There'll be no bribing, since I'd be the one to make that decision, so don't you worry about that. He'll get the punishment he deserves for breaking into a Dog's quarters and intending to harm you. That'll be enough for me."

For a moment Beka just looked at him. Then she blew her whistle to call for help from the Dogs. After she did so, she told Rosto, "You'd better get out of here. We don't need to be explaining why the Rogue was in my rooms either."

He blinked in slight surprise until she rolled her eyes and stood. "Consider it my thank you," she told him, taking his arm.

Suddenly Rosto hissed. That's when Beka noticed the blood starting to seep through the side of his dark shirt. "Rosto, you're hurt!"

"It's just a shallow cut," he told her, wincing. His face was ashen.

"Fools and their pride," Beka muttered, placing one of his arms around her shoulders. "We need to get you to a healer fast." After telling Pounce and Achoo to watch the cove she had hobbled, she helped Rosto back to Mistress Trout's lodgings. The Dancing Dove was farther than he should go. He tried to make light of it, but by the time she got him up to her room, he had lost a significant amount of blood.

Sitting him on her bed, she gave him some ale. He took it with a slight grin and a "thanks" as she used some linen to try and stop the bleeding for a little while until she could run to the Dancing Dove and get one of his healers.

When his bleeding subsided enough, Beka looked down at him. A blade had cut deeply into his side and it was still bleeding too much…and Beka was worried.

"I'll be alright; I've had worse than this afore. I'm a fast healer."

Beka looked up to see Rosto watching her. His voice was soft and his face still pale, which made her worry all the more. He looked bad.

Afraid of his condition and the strong emotions that suddenly weighed down on her, Beka told him, "You'd better not die on me, you looby. If you do, I'll never forgive you. I'm going to fetch you a healer."

Though she had meant to scold, her words had come out with far less force than she had wanted. The worry in her voice had shone through instead, and a slight smile appeared on Rosto's face.

"I won't," he whispered, but Beka didn't hear. She was already out the door, hurrying to the Dancing Dove.

* * *

In Jane Street Kennel, Beka sat writing her report. Her body was rigid with apprehension as she wrote down what had happened that night- at least the parts she wanted the Dogs to know. She left out Rosto's involvement completely, knowing there would be too many questions and speculations as to why the city's Rogue was in her rooms in the first place, but everything else she kept true to fact. She wrote that she arrived at her lodgings and when she opened the door to her room, a man rushed out and Beka pursued. To explain his wounds, Beka said another unfriendly rusher met him in the alleyway. Beka was pursuing that cove when the Dogs showed up. Unfortunately, that rusher had gotten away.

As she wrote, her mind was laced with worry. Would anyone believe this? The two Night Watch guards that had responded to her whistle had, but Beka figured they would also believe a street mumper if she told them she was the Empress of Carthak. Beka knew she'd naught have a chance of getting this passed her desk sergeant and past partner, Clary Goodwin, but with the Night Watch desk sergeant she had a good chance. He wasn't much better than those two guards who had come to her aid in the alley.

She was slightly relieved by this realization, but her shoulders were still tense and her writing tight. She hadn't been able to return to her rooms after she had fetched a healer for Rosto because she knew Dogs would be responding to her call for the cages, and now she was anxious to leave and see how he was doing. Even as she wrote, it surprised her how much she was worried about him. In fact, she could think of little else but his pale face and weak voice. It scared her.

When she gave a verbal report to the desk sergeant and then turned in her official written one, she was finally able to leave. The desk sergeant had heard her report and had asked only a few questions. Beka was leaving, relieved, when suddenly Goodwin appeared beside her. Apparently, the Evening Watch desk sergeant hadn't left after watch yet.

"Let me walk you home, Cooper," she said, already walking out in front of Beka.

Beka sighed inwardly. Her lodgings were well out of the way from Goodwin's house, and she could only guess at the reason why Goodwin wished to walk with her home.

The two were silent as they walked. It wasn't until they were almost to Mistress Trout's lodgings that Goodwin finally said, "I have to say, Cooper, I've heard more believable stories from cracknobs on the streets that claim they're the true King of Tortall. You're just lucky that Night Watch's desk sergeant is such an empty-headed looby."

Knowing better than to act stupid, Beka replied, "What don't you believe?"

Goodwin looked at her. The corner of her mouth twitched in a small grin. "I would be a mule's bum if I believed you gave chase to the rusher that caught your intruder in the alleyway and you didn't hobble him. Of course, I know that didn't really happen, so I'm not going to start scolding you about it."

They stopped as they reached Mistress Trout's. Goodwin turned to her and said, "I also heard that your intruder had multiple knife wounds. Night Watch won't care much now since the cove died in the cages on the way to the kennel, but it sounds to me like the rusher you 'chased' had an excellent hand with a dagger." She gave Beka a significant look. Then Goodwin glanced over at the Dancing Dove and, seeming to change the subject, asked, "By the way, how is our Rogue?"

Beka didn't refute her silent accusation and she knew the question wasn't one meant to be answered. Instead she watched Goodwin closely, wondering what she would do.

Seeing the look Beka was giving her, Goodwin nodded. "Don't worry, Cooper. I'll no more rat him out than you would on this. Besides, we would surely set the Realm of Chaos on its ear if we took down yet another Rogue in such a short time." She grinned and then clapped Beka on the shoulder. "I'd better take my leave. Tom will be up worrying himself silly."

* * *

Beka returned to her rooms to find the healer still there, sitting beside Beka's bed where Rosto lay sleeping. Walking over to the bed, Beka asked her concernedly, "How is he doing?"

"He's doing well. The healing has put him to sleep, but it won't be long before he's up again," the healing woman replied.

Nodding, Beka looked down at Rosto. When she saw he was breathing steadily and his color was much better, relief swept through her unexpectedly. "Good," she said.

Her eyes were still on Rosto when someone said, "It was a nasty cut made by a good blade- and a good swordsman." Beka turned to see Aniki lounging at her table. Before Beka could ask what she was doing there, Aniki told her, "I'm here in case anyone tries to take advantage of attacking a healing Rogue. They'll think twice about it with me here, you, and our healer." Aniki grinned, "She can do some fancy little magic that can bind people up so they can't move."

"I've had plenty of encounters with that to last me a lifetime," Beka replied sarcastically, remembering Sir Lionel's binding spell.

Aniki nodded, "Seeing her work, I almost wish I had the Gift. It would save my sword arm a lot of trouble."

She and Beka talked about the night's events- Beka telling Aniki that the rusher had died on his way to the kennel- until suddenly Beka yawned, "I'm exhausted." Then she looked over to her bed. "Where am I supposed to sleep?" she asked, suddenly realizing Rosto occupied her bed.

Noticing the direction of her gaze, Aniki said with a wicked smile, "I'm sure Rosto wouldn't mind a little company…especially yours."

Beka raised an eyebrow at her friend. "The only company he'll be getting from me is when I kick him out of my bed."

They heard a sleepy chuckle. Beka turned to look at Rosto. His eyes were still closed, but there was sleepy smile playing on his lips as he patted the bed gently with his hand. "There's plenty of room for you here, love. I was taught to share."

"I'm sure you were," said Beka dryly.

Rosto chuckled once more before slipping back to sleep.

"I'll tell him the rusher's fate when he wakes again," Aniki assured her, settling into the chair. "You can sleep in my rooms."

"Thanks," replied Beka, already heading toward the door. Before she left, she took one more worried glance at Rosto. At least he was looking better…and obviously coherent enough to flirt with her. That was a good sign.

From where she sat, Aniki watched Beka as she looked at Rosto. Gods above, she thought as she shook her head, at the rate they're going, the immortals will return before they finally get together!

Aniki was still shaking her head when Beka finally left.

* * *

**A/N: Hey that wasn't a cliffie :D I'll update again in a few days! The next chapter will be the last. **


	12. Takin' a Gamble

**A/N: Okay, I'm finally back online. Sorry for the delay all! My internet modem died before the weekend and I finally just got the new modem late today. So I've posted this as soon as I could! I hope you enjoy it! It is the last chapter!**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: Takin' a Gamble**

* * *

The following morning Beka planned to visit her Granny Fern so she returned to her rooms to gather a fresh set of clothes and her pack- and, though she didn't like to admit it, she wanted to check up on Rosto to see if he was okay.

When she arrived, Aniki was gone, but the healing woman was still there, checking Rosto's wounds. Rosto was also awake, sitting up on the bed, and when he saw Beka, he grinned. "I told you I'm a fast healer," he said.

"Good," retorted Beka, hiding her relief at finding him up. "Now you can go back to your own rooms."

"I told you I'd be willing to share," he grinned. "Aniki told me that rusher died in the cages last night, but wouldn't it be nice to have a cove like me around in case another rusher decides to attack?"

Beka gave him a look. "I have a feeling that the only rusher that I'll have to worry about getting in my rooms is you, Rosto."

He laughed, "You're a sharp mot, Beka Cooper."

The healer stood and began to pack her things. "You're doing well, Majesty," she told Rosto. "Another day's rest will put you in fine condition again. Your body just needs to sleep off the healing some more."

"Thank you," he told the woman. "Ask Aniki to pay you when you return to the Dancing Dove."

The woman nodded and took her leave.

"Well it looks I'll be staying here a little longer then," Rosto said teasingly. "It wouldn't do for the Rogue to faint on the way back to his rooms."

"That's what you'd deserve for breaking into a mot's room, you looby," replied Beka.

"If I hadn't then it'd be you lying here in this bed," he told her. "In that case, I'm glad it's me instead. It was my problem to settle with that scut anyway." Then he chuckled, "Though don't expect any flowers from me in the near future. The last two times I've tried to give them to you have not turned out well."

Remembering the incident with Dale Rowan yesterday morning, Beka looked away. Here, all Rosto had been trying to do was protect her- twice in one day!- and she had gone off on him like a crazed mot. Of course he had made mistakes as well, but she was acutely aware of her own, _especially_ after last night. He had been hurt trying to protect her. It made her feel even guiltier for shouting at him and saying things she did not mean to say the morning before.

Without thinking, she said softly, "I'm sorry, Rosto."

"It's alright, _you_ didn't hit me."

She looked up to tell him that was not what she was referring to, but when she saw his face, she stopped. By the steady, serious look in his eyes, she knew he was aware of what she was speaking about. He was very aware…and his questioning eyes urged her to say more, which is how she found herself apologizing for everything that happened the day before- especially the way she had acted toward him.

She was then in the middle of thanking him for looking out for her, when he interrupted. "Beka, there's no need to thank me. I would have done so even if you forbid me not to. I don't want anyone to hurt you, Beka, no sweetheart or Rat. I want people to think twice before attempting to harm you, and I don't care if you don't want me to look out for you, because I will anyway. That's what friends do, Beka."

They were silent for a moment, before Rosto continued, "Friends are also supposed to listen to each other, and I know that I didn't do that yesterday when I found Dale Rowan in your rooms, and I want to say I'm sorry. I jumped to conclusions and let my emotions get the best of me, Beka. You're also right about Dale Rowan, he's a far more decent cove than I gave him credit for." Seeing the slight surprise on her face, Rosto chuckled softly. "He paid me a visit in my rooms early last night."

Now Beka really did look surprised. "He visited you in the Dancing Dove?"

Rosto nodded. "And luckily he's a fast talker; otherwise he might very well have been on the bottom of the river right now."

"What did you talk about?"

He shrugged. "He just explained to me that he did not come to Corus to try and get you back, but was in truth just passing through, as you told me." He looked at her, "He also told me you haven't been together since Port Caynn."

Beka scrambled for an explanation, but was saved the effort when Rosto said, "Don't worry. I figure you'll tell me in time." Then he chuckled, "Though I do admit I have no regrets about hitting him, I feel better finding out that he's a good cove at least. I still told him he'd better not return to Corus if wishes to see the next Midwinter of course, but if I'm ever in Port Caynn, he's promised to teach me Gambler's Chance while I'm there."

She gave Rosto a grateful look, glad to have resolved what had happened between them the morning before. Rosto returned the look, feeling just as relieved

"Mayhap now we can return to the way things were before…" he ventured.

Beka nodded in agreement.

"Perhaps even more…" Their eyes locked, and Beka's face reddened. It was plain he still wanted her…but did she- could she- want him?

She was saved from saying anything by Kora, Ersken, and Aniki who came through the door at that moment, bringing breakfast with them. With a quick farewell, Beka left and headed for her Granny Fern's house. She couldn't allow herself to have any feelings for Rosto…the trouble was, she needed to tell her heart that.

* * *

Granny Fern was in one of her moods again that morning, beginning by telling Beka if she wanted to find and keep a man, she'd better start eating more so he'd have something to hold on to. After that greeting, Beka was convinced to make the visit short. Whenever Granny Fern found it necessary to remind Beka why she did not have a man, it put Beka in a sore mood not fit for company.

As Beka walked back to her lodgings, she thought over what Granny Fern had said. Dale Rowan had never complained, she told herself, and despite my 'slender form' and 'less than ample chest', as Granny Fern puts it, Rosto still makes it clear he wants me, too.

Suddenly sighing with annoyance at herself at where her thoughts had led her, Beka unconsciously started to walk more quickly. Pounce protested, but Beka wasn't listening. Unlike the cat, Achoo welcomed the quickened pace with a happy bark.

Rosto had been in her dreams again the night before. Unlike her other dreams, though, this time it had been similar to what had happened last night when Rosto chased the rusher out into the alley, but this time, the rusher had been the one to attack Rosto. As the two fought, Beka had tried to run to help, but the faster she ran, the farther away she seemed to get. When she saw Rosto fall, she had cried out, awakening herself from the dream. She had been sweating and panting, and had been even more surprised to find her eyes wet with tears.

She couldn't fall in love with Rosto, she told herself. He was the Rogue, and she a Dog; it would never work!

What about Tunstall and Lady Sabine, Kora and Ersken, and the countless others like them? asked a voice in her head.

But they're different, she thought with frustration, Rosto's the Rogue!

Her pace quickened even more as she had the familiar argument in her head over Rosto the Piper. She was so absorbed in her own thoughts that she didn't hear Mistress Trout's greeting when she passed her on her way into her lodgings. When Beka reached the top of the stairs, she was turning toward her door when she suddenly collided with someone.

She started to apologize when the person chuckled, "Anxious to get home, are we?"

Beka looked up to find that it was Rosto who she had run into. Great Merciful Mother, she thought, someone has got it in for me! He had his large hands gripped around her shoulders to steady her…or mayhap to steady himself as well. Suddenly remembering he was supposed to be resting still, Beka said heatedly, "Rosto the Piper, what are you doing up? The healer told you that you need more rest!"

He grinned lazily, "I'm fine, Beka. I've already taken a short walk through the city."

"Through the city-? Are you cracked, Rosto? Someone could have tried to attack you; you don't have all your strength back yet! It would have been a fine thing for someone to challenge you now, and then what would we do, with you dead and some cracknobbed new Rogue that just got lucky to catch you in such a weakened state, sitting on the throne?"

Rosto's grin widened as she spoke. Her eyes were heated with anger…and with worry. Beka was worried about him. This realization made Rosto grin all the more. Cupping her face in one of his strong hands, he ran his thumb gently across the corner of her mouth as he said, still grinning, "I didn't know you cared."

Suddenly flustered by his touch, Beka told him crossly, "Of course I care, you great big looby! If I didn't-"

She was cut off by Rosto pressing his lips to hers. It took her a moment to realize what was happening, and when she did, memories of those silly dreams of hers came rushing back. In those dreams, she would then wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as she wound her fingers through his hair. His arms would then wrap around her waist, lifting her slightly off the ground. Then the next moment she would be in his arms, being carried toward…

Beka pulled away. She couldn't afford to lose her head, which, she admitted, was very difficult whenever his lips touched hers.

"What? No bite?" he asked, grinning broadly when she didn't move to hit him.

"Thank the gods that you're already hurt," she warned him, "otherwise you'd be on the floor right now."

He chuckled, "I doubt that. Just admit that you like my kisses, Beka."

"I do not!" she retorted a little too quickly. "I would hit you right now if you weren't already hurt, you spintry!"

"Then I guess I'll use it to my advantage while I'm still able," he said, moving closer.

"You wouldn't-"

He did. Placing his hand behind her head, he pulled her to him once more. With irritation- and slight wonder- Beka instantly realized that his lips were just as soft and warm as she had remembered them to be.

Then he released her again, grinning. It wasn't fair that his kisses were so intoxicating, Beka thought.

"So?" he asked, still grinning.

Beka folded her arms across her chest and tried to give him a hard look. It was somewhat difficult with her heart beating so wildly in her chest. "I think you're toying with your life, Rosto the Piper," she told him. She was thankful that at least her voice sounded calm.

"I told you I don't mind gamblin'," he said with a grin, "as long as it gets me what I want."

"I'll not be your mot, Rosto," she told him. "You're too old for me, anyway."

He laughed. "I thought by now you'd be tired of playing around with lads," he told her. His voice dropped lower. "What you need, love, is a real man."

He had moved closer so that her back was now pressed against the wall. Her heart was drumming madly. "Rosto, I don't _need_ a man at all."

"I know that. I'm just still hoping to change your mind." He kissed her again.

Great gods! Surely the man was capable of changing the mind of the biggest stuffed shirt in all of Corus! she thought as his lips moved gently over hers. She was acutely aware of his hands as they slid down her waist to grip her hips. His kisses were getting longer- and her rationality was slipping away with every second. Soon thought would be lost to her completely.

"Did it work?" he asked her when he pulled back.

"You're no better than a spintry, using kisses to try and scramble a mot's head this way," she accused.

His voice was rough when he chuckled. "It's called persuasion."

"And you're far too good at it," she told him without thinking.

"It's only one of the many things I'm good at, love," he told her with a wicked smile.

When he leaned in again, Beka demanded, "Stop, Rosto, unless you truly do want to end up with a bashed-in head."

"As long as you keep protestin', Beka, I'll keep kissing you."

"But I don't want you to-!"

She was silenced once again by his lips…and this time was one too many times. She felt him stiffen for a moment as her own lips started to respond of their own accord, and then suddenly he was kissing her with more force and urgency. Beka matched his fervor with her own, forgetting all the reasons why she thought she shouldn't be doing this, because as much as she tried to deny it…she wanted this kiss just as much as Rosto did.

When he pulled back, Beka bit back the urge to pull his lips back to hers. He was looking at her in such a way that she had never seen before. His eyes were bright and warm, and as always, searching. She was glad to see that he was breathing as hard as she.

Apparently finding what he looked for, he stepped back and smiled at her. "I left something for you in your rooms," he told her. "I figured if Dale Rowan can give you gifts, I can too."

Beka began to say something when Rosto put a finger to her lips. Eyes dancing he said, "Remember, if you protest, I'll just have to start kissing you again."

She closed her mouth immediately. The problem was she wanted him to kiss her again. The thought was far too tempting, and she couldn't afford to lose her head.

Rosto chuckled, and then with one last quick kiss on the cheek, he turned to leave. She watched him go, hands in breeches pockets as he whistled a jaunty tune down the stairs. He had just disappeared from her sight when Pounce dropped something at her feet.

She glared at the cat and Achoo who had just sat there watching the whole time. "Where were you when I needed you?"

_It looked like you had it all under control_, Pounce told her. _Besides, I didn't want to disrupt your obvious enjoyment._

"Of course not, the gods only like to meddle in human affairs when it isn't wanted," she muttered as she bent over for the small bundle Pounce had brought.

_I've told you before, I am _not_ a god,_ replied Pounce haughtily.

Beka ignored him as she unwrapped the package. When she saw what was inside, she gasped. Blue, orange, and red fire glowed from the stone. "It's a fire opal," she whispered. It was uncut and rough, much like the one she had lost in Port Caynn. With a horrible thought, she said, "He better not have stolen it."

_Read the note_, Pounce said.

Gripping the opal, Beka picked up the note underneath. It said:

_He may have given you pretty jewels and pretty speech, but I know you better than he could ever hope._

He didn't sign his name, but in post script, he added:

_And no, I did not steal it, so there's no reason to bite my head off about it later, love. _

Beka shook her head at the note, unable to bite back the small smile that had formed unconsciously- and unknowingly- on her lips.

* * *

**A/N: That's the end! I would like to thank you all for reading and reviewing, I greatly appreciate it!!!**

**In the meantime feel free to message me anytime!! I'd be glad to reply to any questions you might have or if you just want to talk about all things Tortall or whatever else, I'd be happy to! **

**Also, Rowena of Naxen and I are starting a Beka/Rosto community and forum, so I'll try to add some B/R stories to the community (which Rowena of Naxen has already started) and I'll be starting the forum hopefully in the next few days! They'll both be called 'Beka and the Rogue', so feel free to check them out and offer any topics for discussion in the forum or stories to add to the community!**

**Thank you again!!! Hope to see you in the community and forum!! **

**~*Starzgirl***

**Wait. You didn't really think I'd just stop here did you? ;P For all of you that have been inquiring about a sequel…I'm working on it right now :D So all I'll say more is-**

**To be continued… ;D**


End file.
